Come Undone
by greendaypumpkin
Summary: A year after his kidnapping, Dean is moving on with his life, but a chance encounter and an unusual hunt could jeapodise everything he and Sam have worked for. Continuation of Nothing Else Matters
1. Chapter 1

**Note: **This is sort of a continuation of Nothing Else Matters, but you don't really need to read that first, basically Dean was kidnapped and assaulted and this is set about a year later. It's not as dark as the last one but still not very pretty. Anyway thank you so much for taking the time to check it out, I hope you enjoy and please let me know what you think so I can improve.

**Warnings: **References to prior non-con, self-harm.

**Summary: **A year after his kidnapping, Dean is moving on with his life, but a chance encounter and an unusual hunt could jeapodise everything he and Sam have worked for.

xxx

You knew it was bad when your shoulders were so cold they hurt. The thought flashed madly into his mind, he was sure he was dying. If he could just get warm, just find some modicum of heat to warm his freezing body. Then, once he had the feeling back in his hands, he'd use them to kill his brother.

He cursed Dean for ditching him at the bar to hook up with some girl and conveniently forgetting to leave him the key to the motel room. Leaving him huddled against the door, waiting for his jerk of a brother to return and occasionally kicking clumps of snow off his boots when his feet disappeared under the growing mounds.

He knew he shouldn't really complain though, it was good to have Dean back to his old self, granted there were times when the past would rear its ugly head and remind them of the horrors that had plagued Dean last year, but for the most part he was back to normal and the trauma of his kidnapping was where it should be, in the past.

Sam was snapped from his reverie by the familiar sound of the Impala pulling in to the parking lot, he squinted against the glare of the headlights, but remained seated, shivering against the door. Dean had that shit eating grin on his face that Sam had missed so much, and he had to remind himself that he was angry right now. By the way Dean was whistling (man he totally didn't want to think about the reason) he was fairly sure he wouldn't dent his ego but damn it he was going to try.

"Aw waiting up for me Sam? You shouldn't have." Dean ruffled Sam's frosty hair as his brother glared up at him.

"I waited in the bar till it closed. Then I walked around for TWO hours and I have NO idea how long I've been sat here, but I do know I am cold, so open the freaking door Dean."

"Whoa! No need to get snappy little bro' you should get yourself some shore leave it'd do you the world of good." He winked down at his brother's shaking form.

Sam was so not happy at how long Dean was taking, so he snatched the key from his hand, his clumsy, numb fingers however didn't seem to cooperate and eventually Dean shoved him out of the way and smoothly clicked the door open, pushing it wide and giving Sam a mocking bow as he scurried into the room.

Having rid himself of his sodden clothing, Sam shivered in sweat pants and a t-shirt.

"Well I hope she was worth me nearly freezing to death?"

From the look on Dean's face Sam knew that the answer was yes, so he shot his brother a glare and dove under the covers, covering his nose so that he could continue the death stare while trying to warm up. But Dean looked happy and confident and he couldn't help but remember when he was traumatised and scared, the nightmares waking him every night, and even though he was paying the price, he didn't mind too much for Dean's happiness, but he sure as hell wasn't about to let him know that.

It had taken a long time, and a lot of Dean having to get used to sharing things that he'd normally keep bottled away, he'd tried that tactic at first but it had ended badly to say the least with Sam having to drag them both out of the river when it had all gotten too much for Dean. There had been many nights when they'd stayed awake till dawn, talking, usually after a vicious nightmare reminded Dean of what he thought was behind him, and Sam had reminded him repeatedly that he had to deal with it, talk to someone, and that someone was Sam.

So Sam was relieved that Dean was walking around with a swagger and a cocky self-assured grin and had to paste his angry expression on his face, turning swiftly away to hide his smile when Dean ruffled his hair again, making him feel like a little kid, as he drifted off to sleep.

xxx

Dean made a nose dive into his pillow, curling his arms around it and burying his face deep, it had become his new favourite sleeping position, having something to hug comforted him, and he sure as hell wasn't getting a stuffed animal. He was exhausted but his mind was still whirring, going over the nights activities, it hadn't exactly been explosive, but it had been good, she'd made him feel wanted and safe, he was still getting back into the swing of things, but it was going well. The first time after it happened they didn't actually have sex, they'd been getting down to it and he'd had a flashback or something and had a minor freak out, where he'd ended up confessing everything which he felt guilty as hell about, some messed up freak wasn't what this girl had been looking for, but she'd listened and held him in her arms then kissed him softly and they fell asleep together. She was the only person apart from Sam that he'd told, not that Sam knew, and after that was when he started feeling strong again.

He knew it wasn't the first time since his ordeal that something had happened with a girl, but he didn't count that one. The first time after it happened did not go well, he'd been drunk and scared and everything had gone too far and he almost hadn't stopped before he... he shook his head fiercely to rid himself of the memories, when he thought about what he almost did he wanted to throw up or drag a blade up his arm just to give him something else to think about.

That was something else he'd tried, he'd only done it a couple of times and it wasn't deep, but it gave him a temporary release, something physical to focus on, he didn't like doing it and he didn't want to do it again, but sometimes when the memories would creep into his mind it was all he could do to keep from grabbing his knife and locking himself away in the bathroom, it made him proud when the moments passed and he'd managed to stay strong.

Snapping his eyes wide he huffed out a breath, unhappy that the thoughts were killing his buzz and making it hard to sleep. He listened to Sam's heavy breathing, matching his own to the slow rhythm, hoping to be lulled off to sleep.

After another half an hour of failed sleeping attempts in a variety of positions he resigned himself to the fact that he wasn't going to get to sleep yet, padding softly over to the table he flipped open Sam's laptop cursing quietly at the beep that sounded ten times louder in the silence of the motel room and, plugging his earphones into the speaker, began to check out YouTube.

Xxx

And that's how Sam found him the following morning, the Potter Puppet Pals frozen on the screen. Sam gingerly touched his brother's shoulder to wake him and Dean bolted up with a start, Sam had to bite his tongue to keep from laughing at the keyboard impressions on his cheek.

"What time is it?" Dean blinked and looked around, the confusion clearing from his eyes.

"11.30. We slept kinda late." Sam ran a hand through his tousled hair "I'm gonna get a shower, then what do you say we get out of here, grab some breakfast and hit the road? Bobby called with a pretty straightforward hunt a couple of states over."

"Sounds good," Dean stretched the kinks out of his back "I'll start packing the car."

xxx

A day on the road had them both itching to get out, neither of them wanting to stay cooped up in the motel room, and so they headed to the bar they'd seen a couple of blocks away, leaving the car so they could relax and enjoy their drinks.

Dean smiled to himself as he watched the effects of the alcohol spread quickly over his brother. Sam was never very good at holding his drink, and though he would never admit it, he always tried to keep up with his big brother. Dean felt the comforting warmth spread through his body, he was happy like this, a few drinks with his brother was all he really needed.

After a few hours Sam was pretty much wasted and Dean had to admit that he too was really feeling it. His vision was swimming slightly and he couldn't stop laughing hysterically as Sam who was apparently mesmerized by the size of his hands compared to a bottle of beer.

"Seriously Dean look! You know what?" He smiled smugly to himself and leaned forwards to whisper "I'm so strong that I could smash this bottle with my hands if I wanted to!" He bounced back in the booth, smiling like he'd just divulged a massive secret.

Dean raised an eyebrow and tried to look stern "We don't want anybody calling the cops though, 'cos you were drunk and disorderly do we?"

"Who?! Tell me who Dean cos I'll smash them too!" Sam looked wildly around the bar, taking in few remaining stragglers, most of them old drunks. Dean took this as their cue to leave.

"Ok Sammy, I think it's time to go, you've scared these people now, they're not gonna call the cops."

"Oh no. I'm sorry. I'm really sorry." Sam proceeded to apologise to everyone they passed on the way out the door, while Dean dragged him by the arm as he loudly announced that the next round was on him.

By the time they got out to the parking lot Sam was leaning heavily on Dean and talking about the beauty of the stars and then the beauty of the snow, if Dean needed any more proof that Sam was a girl, that was it.

"I like it when you talk to me."

Oh, wait, now he's a girl.

"I mean it Dean, you've done so...so good this last year, I'm so proud of you man."

Dean immediately put up the road blocks that would stop him thinking too hard about the meaning of Sam's words. "Yeah yeah, you are such a chick dude."

"No I'm not, I'm a boy!"

Dean snorted a laugh.

"I am, but I love you." Sam kissed the top of Dean's head and Dean groaned loudly.

"Remind me to never let you get this drunk again."

"No, I like being drunk and I...Dean look at the snow it's so white and clean! I have to pee!"

"Well it's not far now."

"NO! Dean I mean it! I have to pee noooooow."

Dean rolled his eyes and dragged his brother over to a nearby alley.

"Just get a move on. I'm so not helping you and if you get busted you're on your own!" he turned his back to give his brother some privacy, smirking as he listened to Sam singing Barry Manilow's _Mandy_ quietly to himself.

"What's up with the singing Sammy?"

"Shhhh! Helps me concentrate!" he immediately recommenced singing while Dean pretended he was a tightrope walker on the edge of the sidewalk, falling swiftly off when he heard a strangled cry from down the alley.

He switched instantly into hunter mode and made his way as stealthily as he could in his current condition, towards the sounds of scuffling, wishing he was packing.

As he got closer he could make out more noises, terrified whimpering, harsh words, panicked breathing. He saw the man first, he wasn't a particularly big guy, but Dean knew that didn't matter, the girl was pressed against the wall, tears streaming down her face, her voice muffled by his hand over her mouth, pushing helplessly against him.

Dean could see the fear in her eyes, see her silently begging to be let go, but he could see there was no chance of that. His gut clenched when he saw the way the man was touching her, he knew what he was trying to do and saw red.

Then everything was a bit of a blur, all happening too fast, Dean felt strangely disconnected, like he was watching a movie and wasn't the one delivering a fast punch to the guy's temple, wrestling him away from the girl and smashing his face into the wall repeatedly. He didn't feel the way his knuckles connected with the man's face again and again, didn't realise when he lost consciousness, was still engrossed in the movie where he kept on punching the prone figure, everything becoming a mess of blood and skin and teeth.

He wasn't quite aware of anything until he felt Sam drag him off the bastard, pulling him backwards and away before running to check for a pulse and phoning for an ambulance, while Dean sat on the concrete and stared numbly down at his bloodied hands. And then Sam was dragging him to his feet again, which refused to cooperate, he just stared at what he'd done until Sam grabbed his face and yelled that they had to leave and he let himself be pulled along.

He wasn't really aware of getting to the motel room, and dimly wondered when Sam who was now peeking out of the window at the sound of sirens, had sobered up.

"What happened to the girl?"

Sam finally turned to face him "She ran. She's ok Dean, she got away."

Dean just nodded dumbly and stared down at his hands which Sam only just seemed to notice. He grabbed the first aid kit and knelt at Dean's feet, not meeting his eyes as he clumsily tended to Dean's hands.

"You're shaking Sammy."

"You could have killed him." Sam still didn't meet his gaze.

"Didn't. Besides, he deserved it."

"That doesn't matter; he was still a person..."

"He was a rapist Sam." The words carried no emotion, and Sam knew, even in his drunken state that Dean had trained himself not to feel.

"I thought you were doing better." Sam instantly regretted his words when Dean's eyes flashed with anger.

"That has nothing to do with it Sam." Dean growled out, "He was a monster and I kicked his ass, end of story." He snatched his hands from Sam's and pulling the covers up, curled on his side in bed, fully dressed with his back to Sam.

Sam continued to kneel by the bed, the alcohol still running through his system making it difficult to think straight. But one thought was coming through clearly, that this could end up being a huge step back for Dean and he really didn't want that. Realising that Dean's hands were still a mess, he got unsteadily to his feet and stood over his brother, reluctant to touch him and be shot down.

"Dean? Dean I need to clean your hands." He remained staring at his brother's unmoving form. "Please, they could get infected."

He took it as a small win when Dean awkwardly threw his hands over his arm, allowing Sam access without any interaction.

Sam resolved to keep watch all night, but the feeling of sobriety soon faded and he passed out cold on the end of Dean's bed.

xxx

It didn't take too long before Dean felt Sam slump at the bottom of his bed and the soft drunken snoring to start. He stayed curled on his side not wanting to move and wake him which would surely result in more questions.

He was freaked out, he was very happy to admit that to himself but Sam was another matter, he didn't want Sam to worry even more, his brother had started relaxing more now, he seemed to be settling back into a more normal routine, in fact they both were, and Dean didn't want to ruin it. But the night's events had shaken him, and he just wanted to crawl back inside himself just for a little while, just until the worst of it went away.

He didn't think sleep would have been possible, not with the way his mind was racing and the quiet irrational fear that had wrapped its icy tendrils around his heart making it impossible to close his eyes and the strong need to protect Sam and make sure he never had to go through what Dean did. But Sam's breathing was soothing and he found himself fighting harder and harder to keep awake before he gave in and let sleep drag him down into disturbed dreams of monsters with human faces.

xxx

Sam's stomach rolled at the strong smell of coffee that invaded his senses and put his head in his hands as Dean placed a steaming mug in front of him on the table he was currently slumped at.

"Come on, drink up, it'll help."

The look Sam shot him was scathing and Dean couldn't help but chuckle to himself as his brother grimaced his way through the coffee. Sam really wasn't very good at handling his drink, but he had to sober up for the hunt and it was quite entertaining.

Sam glanced up at his brother "You ok?"

Dean had seriously hoped to avoid this conversation, he'd held on to the tiny hope that Sam would be too drunk to remember or even better would just get the freaking hint and leave it!

"I'm fine."

The silence hung in the air.

"Talk about cutting the tension with a knife." Dean quipped.

Sam gave a half hearted laugh before the silence settled over them once more.

"Dean can you just..."

"Look Sam..."

They simultaneously started and stopped talking, Sam trying to catch Dean's eye and Dean trying even harder to avoid it, before Sam sighed.

"Dean, you really freaked me out last night. I just want to make sure you're ok. It's totally understandable if you need some time, or to talk or whatever."

"Seriously Sam, were you born with girl parts and these facts were just not mentioned to me?"

At Sam's puppy dog expression he prepared himself for just the right amount of lying and a tiny bit of truth to satisfy his brother.

"Ok, I'll admit it, I was a little freaked, but mainly cos I just wasn't expecting it...obviously." He tried a joke but Sam's expression was just as tense so he continued. "I just got caught up in the heat of the moment, and he got off easy, but it wasn't about me and seriously I'm ok. I promise."

He seriously hated lying to his brother but also hoped that Sam wouldn't see straight through him so he flashed him his most reassuring but yeah-it-was-a-weird-night-but-thanks-for-being-there bullshit grin. Which Sam seemed to accept and dragged himself off to the shower while Dean dug his nails into his palms and hoped it was just going to hurt for the day.

xxx

tbc

thank you for reading, please let me know what you think :)


	2. Chapter 2

The first few hours were spent madly trying to find a way out. He was more pissed off than anything else, frustrated at himself for making such a rookie mistake, for getting stuck there.

He knew it had seemed too easy, of course it was, when was he going to learn that whenever something seemed too easy he was going to find himself up shit creek without a paddle. He wasn't even too sure what he had been chasing, Sam had done the research and from his tone of voice he didn't think it was too vital that he be aware of the details, he was also pretty sure that Sam was still in Mother Hen mode and wouldn't have Dean doing anything that might damage his fragile mental state. So while he was running full pelt after the Imp that had developed a taste for human flesh or something, he hadn't paid too much attention when it suddenly stopped, turned and giggled, the blood around its mouth severely detracting from the cuteness factor, he didn't quite figure out that he should stop running before the ground gave way beneath him, sending his arms flying upwards and eyes bulging comically, as he cascaded beneath the ground.

Groaning and wincing he pushed himself up and took in his surroundings. Damn it he must have knocked himself out, he was in a room. Just a square room that was somewhat lacking in furnishings to say the least, given the fact that it had none.

"Frigging Imps." he muttered as he pushed himself to his feet to suss out his new predicament.

There was no door, how the hell could a room not have a door. He was so damn angry and Sam must be freaking out big time by now, after he was done trying to kick the shit out of the mossy stone walls he gave up and flopped to the ground exhausted, damp and cold hanging in the air, clawing at him.

There was a small niggling fear that was attempting to quell his anger. He was trapped, he was alone, he was vulnerable. Once that thought voiced itself, anger skulked away and was quickly replaced by a swelling terror. He didn't like being trapped; he didn't like to know that there was no way out, no way of escape if something happened, it reminded him too much of when he'd been kidnapped by that psycho, of when he'd been trapped in that coffin. He chewed on a nail intently, trying to focus his mind on something other than his current situation and reassure himself that it wasn't a coffin it was enormous compared to the coffin and had light and air and he could move.

He had to do something, anything that could qualify as productive until Sam found him, because Sam would find him, Sam had to find him, otherwise he'd die here and Sam would be alone and there was no way that could happen.

He pushed himself forwards onto his hands and knees and began to inspect the room, closely examining the walls, searching for cracks, anything that would signify some sort of way of escape. After he'd spent a good couple of hours scouring every inch of the place his mind started to wander, dredging up a memory of some story that he'd had to study in school, _The Pit and The Pendulum_, he couldn't remember a whole lot about it, but he'd liked it because it was dark and sinister like most things in their lives, but at the same time it terrified him, the solitude the darkness, the fear.

It wasn't dark here though, light was spilling in from somewhere, and that's when he realised that from high high above him there was a window that was illuminating his prison. He jerked his head and took in the height of the ceiling and his heart sank, he was at the bottom of the pit, there was no way he could climb out.

But it was ok, because Sam would come for him. Wouldn't he? There was a chance that Sam wouldn't be able to find him. As quickly as that thought surfaced, Dean pushed it back down. Sam would find him, they always found each other.

He was happy to admit that he was a little beyond freaked now, he was pretty damn scared, he felt claustrophobic and panicky. He leant against the wall and put his head back. Closing his eyes and breathing deeply he began to hum, music always calmed him down. He groped for his phone wondering if there was enough battery so that he could blast some tunes.

His heart leapt to see a small signal bar in the corner of the screen, he'd tried his phone numerous times when he'd first woken but there'd been no signal whatsoever. Filled with renewed hope he called Sam, praying that he'd get through, that he'd answer, that he'd be ok.

"Lo?"

"Sam?"

"'ean? Dean Than' God! Whe' the hell 're you?"

"I don't know Sammy, I woke up in this room, I can't get out, it's got this insanely high ceiling and I can just see one window but I can't get up, and there isn't a door. I'm trapped Sam please, you have to get me out of here." Dean winced at the barely concealed panic in his voice.

"You're bre-ing up. De- what 'ook you?"

"I don't know, I just woke up here and I can't get out. I fell into a hole and knocked myself out and woke up here, I'm pretty freaked out here Sammy." He attempted a laugh, but it froze on his lips when he realised that the signal had cut out.

The light was dwindling; he'd been there for a hell of a long time. Pulling himself into a ball he shivered on the hard floor and fell into an uneasy sleep.

xxx

_Knock knock knock_

The hollow sound wrestled its way through his subconscious. His eyes snapped open; he snapped bolt upright, heart hammering in his chest.

Had he heard it? Maybe it was in his head? Maybe...

_Knock knock knock_

His head swivelled round to the direction the sound was coming from. Cautiously he crawled over to the wall and pressed his ear against it, barely daring to breathe, listening intently for another sign that there was something there.

He was about to chalk it up to dehydration when it came again, louder, making him jump and fall back.

"Hello?" his voice was hoarse and raspy. The knocking had stopped.

"Hello is someone there?"

It started again, louder more frantic, coming from behind him now, the other side of the room. He scrambled to his feet and flung himself over there, reaching the wall just in time for it to stop and start again where he'd just come from. This wasn't good, he pressed himself against the wall so he could take in the whole room, a few more knocks and it stopped.

He waited alert eyes darting back and forth searching for anything different, waiting for whatever it was to make itself known. He was still waiting when exhaustion caught up with him and he succumbed to sleeps warm embrace.

xxx

Sam knelt by the hole he was sure his brother had disappeared into. It wasn't too deep perhaps twenty feet tops but it was enough to hurt, enough to knock someone out if they fell right. The sunlight illuminated the muddy hole dug into the earth; the solid ground frozen by the winter was slightly disturbed, as it would have been if someone had landed there, hard.

Dean's call had raised his spirits slightly, but he was only able to make out half of what he was saying but he did manage to make out that he was trapped in some sort of big room and he sounded freaked, right now it was all Sam could do to keep from completely panicking, this was a bit too familiar, a bit too much like last year when he'd disappeared, when he'd been attacked by that bastard, when he'd been tortured, when he'd been raped.

No. Sam couldn't let himself think like that, this was totally different; he'd talked to him for crying out loud, he'd sounded scared but otherwise ok.

His thoughts were interrupted by a high pitched giggle from the other side of the hole, glancing up he was met with the weird Imp thing that he and Dean had been hunting when he'd disappeared. It was like a twisted cartoon, little hand waving, mouth stretched wide in a cheeky grin revealing large sharp white teeth that had been feasting on some unlucky souls, a bit of flesh hanging between two of the teeth and dried blood smeared around its mouth. Sam wished he had a camera.

Before he could act it hurtled across the hole, and onto his head. He was surprised at how damn strong the little thing was, he was having a hell of a time keeping its gnashing jaws away from his face, in fact he was so busy, he didn't notice himself getting dangerously close to the edge of the hole, he only became aware of it when he lost his footing and the last thing he saw as he was falling was the creature peering over the edge and waving goodbye.

xxx

_Knock Knock Knock_

Dean groaned and pressed his hands over his ears.

"I GET IT, YOU WANT IN! Well I want out but you can't have everything can you?"

The knocking hadn't let up; every so often it'd start again, 3 sharp knocks followed by another 3 from across the room. It was starting to piss him off and he'd had no luck getting Sam again. He wasn't entirely sure that he wasn't hallucinating by now; thirsty had been hours ago he couldn't stop himself from shaking and the persistent knocking was seriously starting to get to him.

As if on cue the knocking stopped again, he'd have peace for a little while, he could try and sleep, he knew he shouldn't sleep was one of the last things he should be doing right now, but he was so cold and tired he just wanted to close his eyes.

_Knock Knock Knock_

He was on instant alert, it was early. And it was faster, it was louder, and suddenly it was in front and behind him, it was all around him, it grew and grew filling up the room.

"STOP IT! LEAVE ME ALONE!" He flattened his back against the wall; the noise was almost unbearable, so loud and haunting.

A new noise, a low rumble sounded, it was all messing with his head because he didn't feel so steady on his feet anymore, then it hit him. The room was shaking, was he caught in an earthquake? With his luck he doubted it'd be that simple and explanation. His suspicions were confirmed when the ground suddenly changed and started to suck him down like quicksand.

Instantly he started to panic, clawing helplessly at the walls, fingers failing to find a grip, trying to pull his feet out of the oozing gunk. He was sinking fast it was already up to his knees. He was beyond desperate, terrified he was going to suffocate to death in the earth, he'd escaped it once and it was coming back for him, there was no coffin this time just the ground sucking him back down.

It was up to his waist now and was showing no signs of slowing down. He was full out panicking his breathing coming in huge gasps that allowed no real oxygen to his lungs, maybe if he could calm down he wouldn't sink so fast and Sam might just find him. But he couldn't calm down, couldn't stop the desperate pleas and screams emitting from his throat. He didn't know who or what he was pleading with, maybe it was just the cosmos.

His hands knotted fiercely in his hair he felt the cold slickness climb to his armpits and keep going, like dead fingers clawing seductively at his throat, forcing him to tilt his head back, keep the pain away as long as he could.

He spluttered as the first of it climbed into his mouth, filling up until there was no room left in his mouth and it began to slide its way down his throat, invading his lungs, unyielding to his choking, his body's efforts to reject it, to seek out oxygen. Instincts fighting to keep him above the surface he felt himself give up as the darkness crept across his eyes and pulled him down into silent oblivion, but not before he thought he heard a faint noise, he couldn't place it and figured it was just his mind having one last trick before he died.

The spots danced before his eyes and he stopped fighting and succumbed to the cold darkness.

xxx

tbc. Thanks to everyone who has been reading, I really hope you enjoyed it, please let me know what you thought.


	3. Chapter 3

Thanks to everyone who's been reading and uber thanks to those of you who reviewed, they made me very happy! I hope you enjoy.

xxx

Something was dripping onto his face, regular and annoying. Pulling him from his comfortable dream world, where everything was fine and he was King of the USA, men were sparse and women pandered to his every need.

He dragged his eyes open, wondering why his face was pressed cruelly into the dirt. Then it all came screaming back to him. He was alive. How was he alive, he'd drowned? Maybe it was an incredibly vivid hallucination? But judging by the dirt covering him, he guessed not. He pushed himself up; it didn't look like anything had changed, what the hell had happened. Turning around he gave a cry of surprise to see a figure face down at the other side of the room.

_Oh No._ He'd recognise that unruly hair anywhere.

"SAM!" his voice was hoarse but he gave shouting a good go.

He skidded to his knees at his brother's side, barely daring to breathe. With shaking fingers he felt for a pulse, letting out a whoosh of breath when he felt it steady and strong.

"Sammy," he shook him gently "Come on Sammy, wake up."

Sam groaned softly.

"Yeah that's it, come on, open your eyes for me."

Sam's eyes flickered open slowly, struggling to focus on his surroundings.

"Dean?" his voice was quiet and muffled then his eyes widened "Dean!"

He pushed himself up as fast as his confused brain would allow and grabbed his brother by the shoulders, partly to check that he was real and partly to steady himself.

"Sam are you hurt? What happened to you?"

"Frigging Imps dude and I'm fine. Never mind about me. Where the hell have you been? Are you ok? You look like hell."

Dean made a weak attempt to fight off Sam's hands as they made a quick assessment that Dean was actually ok, and not just preparing to lie his ass off.

"You know me Sammy, I'm always ok." He attempted a grin through his shivers.

Sam didn't buy it but tried to stay calm until they'd figured everything out.

"Where the hell are we?"

"Beats me, don't think there's an obvious way out though and there's something here Sam. Something keeps knocking and then the ground swallowed me."

Sam gave him a sceptical look "How long have you been down here Dean?" he asked slowly "Since you went missing?"

"Don't give me that look, yes, but I'm not crazy, the knocking's been going on since just after I talked to you and it got really bad...I don't know when it was but the ground turned into quicksand or something and I thought I was going to drown, but I woke up like two minutes ago and here we are. I mean look at me Sam."

Sam was looking at him, his glazed eyes, the way he was shivering uncontrollably and swaying slightly, he'd been worrying about Dean's mental state already after he beat the crap out of that guy in the alley, without adding isolation, dehydration and God knows what else, but it was still Dean and he'd believe him, plus Dean did look like he'd been digging around in a pile of dirt.

"Ok," Sam nodded "I believe you, but we really need to get out of here."

"Go ahead and try Sammy, but I've had nothing but time and couldn't find anything."

Still Sam thought that fresh eyes might be a good idea and began scouring the walls for anything that might be of any use.

A strange noise distracted him and he turned to see Dean greedily trying to catch water that was dripping from above.

"Dean what are you doing? You don't know where that's coming from there could be anything in it!" he pulled his brother away, forcing him to look at him, Dean's sunken, unfocused eyes disturbing the hell out of him.

"Please Sammy, I'm so thirsty, it's only water, you don't know when it'll stop again."

"It hasn't been doing it the whole time?"

Dean shook his head, too intent on freeing himself from Sam's grasp to speak.

"I really don't think you should drink that Dean." but Dean looked so desperate and Sam was so worried that he relaxed his grip slightly and let Dean tilt his head back allowing the water to drip into his dry mouth.

xxx

Sam felt like crap, his head was killing him, he was cold hungry and thirsty, he hadn't even been down here all that long so who knows what Dean was feeling like.

He looked over at his brother, Dean appeared to be asleep, he'd been huddled next to the wall shivering for the last hour or so, Sam knew if they didn't get out of here soon they were in serious trouble.

He'd found something when he was trying to find a way out, it looked to be the top of a window or door or something poking out from the dirt, if what Dean had said was true then it must have been uncovered when the ground changed. He crawled over to check that Dean was asleep and therefore wouldn't exert himself if he saw what Sam was doing and began to dig with his hands.

The ground was hard and cold and he kept going until he could no longer feel his fingers, by which time he'd uncovered enough to hopefully pry the planks of wood away and check out the other side.

He was pulled from his work by a sharp gasp from his brother; he spun round to see Dean pressed hard against the wall.

"Dean? What's wrong?"

"Shhh! Didn't you hear it?"

"Hear what?"

"The voice. _His _voice Sam."

Dean looked terrified, trying to press himself into the wall, make himself as small as possible.

"Who's voice Dean?"

"Nick."

Sam's heart froze at the mention of the man who'd kidnapped Dean last year. He reached Dean and looked into his eyes, alarmed by what he saw, Dean's pupils were enormous. _Damn it what was in that water?_

"Dean listen to me," Sam spoke calmly and slowly "Nick's gone, remember we salted and burned his bones, he can't come back, he can't hurt you anymore."

He could see that his words weren't going in, that Dean was trapped in his own delirious world, he really had to get them out now.

"Dean I think I've found a way out ok. Just stay here for a few minutes."

"NO!" Dean's hand was like a vice on his arm, which was surprising given his depleted strength. "Don't go Sammy, don't let him hurt you."

Sam gently pried the fingers from his arm "I won't Dean don't worry, just hold on for a few minutes."

He avoided looking at Dean's face as he turned away, he hated seeing that look in his eyes, it was a far cry from the strong cocky brother he'd grown up with. He worked fast, bloodying his fingers and tearing his nails trying to pry away the wood, he had to work fast, Dean was starting to lose it, Sam didn't want to know what he could see, but it didn't sound good, Dean was breathing in harsh gasps and kept shuffling backwards around the room like he was trying to escape someone or something, throwing out colourful curses and insults that lacked his usual enthusiasm.

Finally one of the boards broke and he was able to pull the others free, peering down a dark tunnel he felt a soft breeze and hoped that meant there was a way out, he'd have tried it alone but Dean was completely flipping out and he didn't want to leave him on his own. It would be a tight fit, they'd have to crawl and if it collapsed or something they'd be trapped. Still, it was either wait here to die, or try and survive.

Dean gave a cry of alarm and Sam turned to see him huddled in a shivering ball, cringing away from some unseen enemy.

"Dean we're getting out of here." Sam tried to pull his brother along, but Dean was trapped in his hallucination.

"Sammy please don't let him get me again. Please make him go away, he's just standing there. GO AWAY!"

It killed Sam to see his brother like that, screaming at the air. Gently he turned Dean's head towards him.

"I'm going to take you away from him Dean. You just have to trust me, I need you to just try and stay with me, keep talking to me and I'll keep talking to you ok?"

"But Sa..."

"Don't look at him; don't think about him, just focus on me. Are you ready?"

Dean gave a small pathetic nod and obediently followed Sam over to the hole, keeping his eyes fixed on the ground at all times.

The passage was even tighter than Sam had originally thought; they essentially had to shuffle along on their elbows and knees in the dark, Sam keeping up a relatively constant stream of chatter to keep both Dean and himself calm. Dean's trembling had become even worse since they entered the tunnel and he could hear his erratic breathing behind him, they clung to each other awkwardly in the dark Sam offering support, Dean needing the contact, he hadn't really said it but Sam had a pretty good idea that Dean wasn't crazy about small spaces after he'd been locked in a coffin underground for ages, so he was willing to bet that Dean was struggling not to completely freak out right now.

Sam was in the middle of rambling off a story from when he was at College, and had gotten so drunk he didn't remember passing out on an outdoor trampoline until he woke up covered in vomit, when he heard Dean gasp and jerk back.

He craned his neck and in the darkness was just able to see his brother's wide eyes staring at him in fear before he jerked backwards again, falling onto his stomach before being dragged slowly backwards.

"DEAN!" Sam turned and rolled onto his stomach, clamping his hands onto his brother's forearms and Dean did the same.

"He's got my ankle Sam! Shit!" he swore as he was yanked backwards again. "He's never going to let me go!"

"No he hasn't, I don't know what has, but it's not him, he's gone forever, it's just your mind playing tricks on you. Now kick it off!"

Before Dean could make a move something pulled savagely on his leg again, with such force that both he and Sam were pulled back down the tunnel, something really didn't want them to leave. He tried kicking at it, trying to dislodge whatever it was, wanting to believe Sam's words that it wasn't Nick, he thrashed his leg around, but the thing had sharp claws that were firmly embedded in his calf.

"I can't Sam. If it gets me, don't let it get you too, promise me that!"

"Damn it Dean, we are not having this argument again, not now, you..."

He was cut off as they were dragged back towards their prison again, both disturbed by the shrill squeal that accompanied it. Dean winced in pain as it dug another set of claws in, ready to release his hold on Sam in case it was too strong for them to fight, there was no way he was dragging his little brother with him to suffer at the hands of something terrifying, he knew it would be Nick, knew that's what he would see and he couldn't have that happen to Sam, no way.

Sam saw the look in Dean's eyes that told him he was ready to sacrifice himself again and determination set in. He twisted himself round so that he was facing the same direction as Dean and grabbed his brother under the arms, pulling him round and away so that he was pressed against him.

Dean cried out in pain as the claws twisted in his leg as Sam turned him onto his back, and then they were both pulling, muscles straining hard, holding on to each other for all it was worth. Dean felt something give, his leg felt looser, he brought his other leg up and slammed it down hard on the thing holding onto him. There was a pained yelp and the claws withdrew their fierce hold and they collapsed backwards exhausted.

xxx

They were making agonisingly slow progress, the tunnel seemed to have gotten smaller and Sam was finding it difficult to fit his large frame along at any kind of real speed, which was ok because Dean couldn't move fast either, the pain in his leg sending white hot agony searing through him every time he put it down, he didn't know how bad it was and he didn't know whether the dizziness he was feeling was down to blood loss, lack of oxygen or dehydration. He supposed it didn't really matter which it was there wasn't a whole lot he could do about it right now and Sam would just worry more if he found out.

It wasn't long though before his fuzzy limbs crumpled under him and he did an ungraceful face plant in the dirt.

"What's wrong?" Worry was laced in Sam's voice, it was too dark to see now but he could picture the panic etched onto his face.

"Nothin' just lost my balance." He was annoyed at how slurred his words were and how difficult it was to bat off Sam's hands that were probing for a source; he sometimes hated how well his little brother knew him.

"Damn it Dean, how long have you been feeling like this?"

"Not long," he lied "think it might be my leg. The thing had frigging talons or somethin'" his voice felt distant, his tongue too big and furry, he felt kinda floaty, it wasn't a bad feeling. He did not enjoy it however, when Sam's hands explored his leg and he bolted up with a cry of agony and a string of expletives.

"Shit Dean, it's bad. Why didn't you tell me, you've just been bleeding all this time?"

Dean was vaguely aware of Sam moving around and then reaching down awkwardly to his leg in the dark.

"Now this is gonna hurt." Dean let out a scream of pain as Sam tied something firmly around his leg and then his mind started drifting, blissfully separating him from his body. He was snapped back into it with Sam's,

"Hey! Stay with me Dean, you have to stay awake, we have to get out of here and I'm gonna need your help."

And he could never deny Sam anything, especially when he needed help, and so he forced himself to stay awake, to try and block out the pain and help Sam who was pulling him down the tunnel by using his good leg and arms to shuffle along.

"Sam wait," Dean rasped "Do you hear that?"

"Dean it's just your imagin..." he trailed off as he heard it too, rapid scuttling and tiny screeching sounds, like hundreds of rats rushing towards them, fast.

"Move!" Dean had forced himself to his knees and was shoving Sam down the tunnel now, leg screaming in pain and his head feeling very fuzzy, but he had to move, had to get Sam to safety. It was damn near impossible to see, all he could make out was Sam's shape in front of him, if they hadn't been running for their lives he would have laughed at how funny Sam looked arms and legs scurrying at the ground.

And suddenly the burst of adrenaline was gone and he was laid on his front in the dirt again, it smelt cold and stale and he calmly realised that they were probably going to die down here, there was probably no way out, his eyes drifted closed, opening again when he felt Sam reach clumsily for him, felt him grab his jacket and pull him against his warm chest.

He heard Sam's panicked breathing; felt him twisting around as if looking for a way out. Dean wondered when his eyes had closed again, he tried to open them, he needed to be there with Sam if nothing else, but they were so heavy and he was so cold and tired. He resigned himself to shivering helplessly against Sam's chest, that floaty feeling was back and his legs felt all tingly. He could sense Sam's panic, but all he could do to comfort him was weakly seek out his hand and give it what he hoped was a reassuring squeeze (well as much of a squeeze as he could). He guessed it worked because Sam hoisted him up higher against his chest as the noises came even closer, he could feel his little brother's heart hammering against his cheek and as his senses faded he was dimly aware of Sam jerking around, probably trying to kick the little bastards off, he wanted to say that it was ok, that it would be over soon but all that came out was a mumble and then there was the darkness.

xxx

tbc.

Thank you so much for reading, please please review and let me know what you think, reviews are better than cookies :)


	4. Chapter 4

The skin on his arms and back was raw, his thin t-shirt riding up even further with every pull, the knowledge that he was moving wriggled into his mind.

_Drag. Pause. Drag. Pause. Drag. Pause._

Shit had the weird things got him? Had they got Sam? He struggled to drag his eyes open, his body felt heavy and sluggish, and it was hard to make his lids stay open, not that it did much good, it was so dark he could barely see. He grunted as the skin on his back chaffed against the ground and whatever was dragging him stopped.

He felt a clammy hand on his cheek and reached up to clasp it, he knew that hand, it was Sam's hand. The urge to sleep tugged at him again now he knew Sam was safe.

"Dean?"

Panic replaced the want of sleep, something was wrong, he could hear it laced in his brothers voice.

"S'm. Wha's wrong?"

"Nothin'. Everything's gonna be fine."

"Sammy?" his throat was so dry he could barely get the words out "something's wrong, what happened?"

"I uh... They were um... They were coming so fast and there were too many of them, so I uh... I kinda caused a cave in."

"Cave in?" Dean's mind was struggling to process the information; he really wasn't feeling good and was worried for Sam.

"The tunnel's pretty much just compacted soil and rocks... just kicked it and it came down, mostly the way we'd come."

"Are you hurt?"

"Been better."

"Tell me."

"Nothin' big, was just out for a couple of minutes." He paused "You stopped breathing."

"Huh." Dean didn't really mind as long as it was him and not his little brother.

"You suffocated. I had to do mouth to mouth. I'm sorry Dean it's all my fault."

"It's fine Sammy," he felt like he was drifting but didn't miss the tears in his little brother's voice and clumsily reached out to pat his leg in what he hoped was a comforting gesture, he didn't really have the energy to do much more than that.

"I don't know where we are Dean. We've been going for hours and I can't find a way out. We're gonna die."

And suddenly Sam was a little kid again, crying because he was scared and needed his big brother to make everything better. Dean grunted in pain as he struggled to push himself up, and was relieved by Sam's strong hands that rested him against the wall of their tiny escape route.

"Listen to me Sam. You did nothing wrong, we'll get out of here, just hafta keep goin'," damn it he wished he could stop slurring his words, but at least Sam couldn't see the way his eyes kept closing in the darkness. "It's taller."

"What?" Sam seemed to think that Dean had totally lost it.

"Tunnel, it was shorter before, we can sit up."

"Probably just where it caved in."

"No, you said that was hours ago, we might be nearly out, let's go." He pushed himself from the wall but only succeeded in unsteadily crashing into the opposite wall and then into Sam which caused a cry of alarm. Dean suddenly became all too aware of how small the width of the tunnel was again and the sound of the blood pumping in his ears wasn't helping. They were trapped, both trapped, they couldn't go back the way they came and they didn't know if they could get out this way. They were screwed.

He didn't want to die here; he didn't want Sam to die here. Chances are Dean would go first and that would leave Sam all alone in the darkness with his rotting corpse for company.

There was no air, he couldn't breathe, he couldn't move his arms out, or stand up, everything was tight, too close and there wasn't enough air, he was going to die here in this coffin.

He didn't realise that Sam was talking to him, babbling madly in fear, trying to get him to calm down, telling him to breathe with him, to focus on the sound of his voice, to stop doing that. Dean didn't know if the stop doing that, was for the fact that he was holding his breath to try and stop the painful hitches or the fingernails he was subconsciously digging into his flesh to try and distract himself from the fear.

And through the haze, he realised that if Sam was here talking to him, then he wasn't in the coffin, and there was air, there wasn't a whole lot of room but there was some room and they were moving and he was taking in fuller breaths and the tears he didn't know had escaped in his panic were stopping. He finally noticed Sam's strong grip on his shoulders, like he'd held him that night on the bridge, like he was anchoring him.

Sam was saying things in that soothing tone of voice that he always found so patronising but was so grateful for now, telling him to calm down, to stay with him, to breathe, and he was breathing again and silently cursing himself for being so weak, using up precious energy on a hissy fit.

As the confusion lifted he switched instantly to big brother mode, because Sam sounded like he was about to freak out and it took Dean a minute to calm him down and to choke down the feeling that something else was wrong with his brother.

xxx

They were going excruciatingly slowly, alternating between Dean struggling to crawl on weak and wounded limbs and Sam dragging him, a lot slower than before, making that little voice pipe up that something was wrong with his brother.

"Eugh!"

"Sam?"

"It's fine, just put my hand in water I guess."

"Well drink up and let's go." Dean was becoming increasingly delirious, it came and went sporadically but it was enough to send that spike of fear into Sam's heart at regular intervals.

"Not this water Dean, when we get out of here I'll find you a river."

"Sounds good Sammy." He leaned heavily against the wall waiting for Sam to get moving. "Sammy?" silence. He pitched forwards, groping weakly for Sam in the shadows, grabbing at his shirt, relieved when he turned to make sure Dean hadn't passed out again, or worst.

"Thought you said you were gonna keep talking." He muttered weakly.

"Oh, sorry. Thought I'd found something. Damn it Dean you really look like shit."

"Yeah well you don't exactly look like a...something good looking either."

Sam shrugged half heartedly and then a look crossed his face "You can see me?"

"Yeah Sam... Oh. I can see you."

"There's light coming from somewhere." Sam began scrambling around looking for the source, Dean attempting to help.

"Up here." Dean glanced up to where Sam was calling from; alarmed that he could only see his brother from the elbows down. He let out a whoosh of breath when his brother's head came back into view.

"Another tunnel, there's light Dean."

"Awesome, see told ya it'd be fine, and you were worried." His humour lacked the usual gusto but Sam was mildly grateful for it all the same, it let him know that Dean was still with him, even if they were running on borrowed time.

"It's... It's smaller than this one though. Maybe you should wait here, I'll check it out and bring back help?"

"NO! No, Sammy please don't leave me down here!" Dean was unaware that he'd grabbed hold of Sam's hand and Sam eased himself down so he was eye level with his terrified brother.

"Ok, ok, I won't leave you. But you do understand that it's a really tight fit; we'll pretty much have to move on our stomachs? You have to try not to freak out in there ok?"

"I won't I promise. Just please don't leave me down here!"

Sam hoisted himself into the opening and then realised that Dean would probably have to go first because he wouldn't be able to get up by himself and was about to back out when he heard a grunt behind him and craned his neck to see Dean crammed in behind him.

Not wanting to waste any time he got moving. It was still dark but at least they could vaguely see where they were going. They were going up, it was quite a disturbingly steep incline and Sam guessed they must have been pretty far underground. Like before, the roof rose slightly so they were able to crawl on their hands and knees.

He could hear Dean's laboured breathing behind him and was grateful that the tunnel wasn't quite so small any more. He was so fixated on getting out, on getting Dean help that he didn't notice the subtle way in which the tunnel veered down and he put his hand into nothing and tumbled down.

"SAM!" Dean watched as his brother was there one minute and gone the next and threw himself forwards to watch as Sam fell head over heels down the sharp drop and winced back as he made contact with something, broke through and sunlight spilled into the tunnel.

They were out, they were free, but where was Sam? He pushed himself forwards, faster than his beaten body would allow, the exit was so near, he made a final lunge and suddenly his head was free, his arms were free, he was gulping in great mouthfuls of fresh air and squinting against the harsh light, it was overcast and grey, but still the light was so bright. Then he realised where he was, he was on the side of a steep hill above a flowing river, with Sam nowhere to be seen.

Wriggling free, he found himself rolling down the slope, and crashing into the water, it was freezing, but he managed to clamber out onto the verge, and looked around wildly for Sam. The world swam dangerously in and out of focus; he couldn't see his little brother anywhere, he could have hit his head on the way down, gotten tangled up in something underwater, a million scenarios invaded his head. He had to get help, but by then it could be too late. He sank to his knees as his legs crumbled beneath him and then there was Sam.

He was lying halfway up the slope; Dean threw himself forwards taking far too long to reach his side. Rolling him over, he was dismayed to see blood oozing from a thin cut on his forehead and even more alarmed at the blood caking his shirt. Pulling it up he found three deep cuts in his side. _Damn it, one of those little bastards must have got him._ They seemed to have pretty much stopped bleeding, not like his leg that had left a sickening red trail all over the hillside. Sam wasn't waking up though, wasn't stirring, or groaning, he needed help. Dean hated leaving him alone, but he had no choice.

"I'll be back Sammy." He staggered to his feet in and started walking, there was a bridge above and if there was a bridge then there should be a road and cars and people. This was confirmed by headlights speeding past, too fast, he was too far away.

Getting up there was harder than it should have been, he was so unbelievably weak, he had no idea how much blood he'd lost but he knew that it was way too much, he just hoped it had at least slowed. His legs seemed foreign to him, struggling to understand the signals his brain was sending that way, they were hampered by pain, and the violent shivering that he hadn't managed to get rid of was a real inconvenience, all conspiring together to knock him off his feet repeatedly.

He felt the rain start when his cheek was pressed into the soil, as he tried to catch his breath, felt it dripping on his face just as it had done hours before, except this was good water, it was clean, it was refreshing, but it was cold, and it was heavy, soaking him through even further, and while he was messing around Sam was down there, in the cold and the rain and he would die if he didn't get off his ass and do something about it.

He was scared the traffic would stop, that by the time he dragged himself up there, the cars would be gone and there would be no hope of help. After what seemed like an eternity he found himself crawling over the top of the embankment and staggered into the road, narrowly avoiding getting hit by a car. Horns were blaring, and the lights were dazzling him through the rain. He felt disoriented and annoyed that no one would stop.

"HELP! SOMEBODY STOP, PLEASE HELP ME!" He screamed at the passing vehicles and dropped to his knees in the middle of the road, rain running down his face, hopelessness overcame him, no one would help. Then he was vaguely aware of people, people standing rushing to him as he babbled madly that they had to help his brother, he just hoped to hell it was getting through because consciousness was abandoning him fast and then strong arms were catching him as he teetered sideways, but it wasn't Sam and as his vision blurred he thought he saw Nick.

"NO! STAY AWAY! YOU GET THE HELL AWAY FROM ME!" He thrashed out wildly as the confused stranger backed away from his flailing limbs, clearly regretting stopping to help this mad man.

Dean could see Nick step backwards, something that didn't sit right with him, he figured it was because there were other people there, witnesses, people who wouldn't let him get away with it, all that changed when he realised that some of the people were holding onto him, they were holding his arms, stopping him from moving. Oh God they were going to hold him down for the sick bastard. He started kicking out with renewed fear, but his depleted strength was no match for the numerous strangers who had a tight grip on him.

Someone was talking to him, an older man with a gentle face, he felt his hand on his shoulder, heard him talking to him in a soft but firm voice, telling him things like he had to calm down or he'd hurt himself, that help was on the way, that he was safe, that no one here was going to hurt him. He met the old man's eyes, saw the concern there, it looked genuine, but there was no way he could be sure. There were too many of them anyway, he was too weak, defeated he let himself go limp, felt the sudden pull on his arms as the people holding him kept him from doing a face plant on the asphalt and let the tears come.

"Please," he whimpered so softly the old man had to lean in close to hear "Please, whatever you do to me, please don't hurt Sam."

"Your brother?"

Dean gave a miserable nod.

"It's ok, someone's gone to look for him."

Dean's head shot up, he was gone, Nick was gone, he'd gone after Sam, he knew he had. The small crowd must have been prepared for another potential outbreak because they seemed to hold him with little effort as he bucked and screamed, not even hearing the old man begging him to keep calm, reassuring him, telling him everything would be alright.

The old man's face was replaced with a new one, one that was checking his vitals and strapping an oxygen mask on him. And the new face was joined by a female one with a gurney and while the old man hovered in the background, worry etched on his weathered features. Then the hands were moving him, laying him flat on his back, making him feel vulnerable and exposed and all the while he was screaming for Sam, screaming at the paramedics that they had to find him and they were still talking in their technical voices that they were going to worry about him first and to try to relax he was in good hands.

He couldn't move his own hands, he looked down expecting to see the faceless people holding him, instead he was greeted with strong restraints that just made everything worse, because he was back in that basement, tied to the stinking bed, without his hands, he needed his hands, if he had his hands then he could fight, but no matter how hard he struggled they wouldn't give.

As the steel doors clanged shut he calmly realised that he was having a panic attack, and that just made him want to laugh out loud. He felt almost invisible, the paramedic was reeling off a list of his symptoms and asking him questions that he couldn't answer because for starters he had this freaking mask on his face and he was having a hard time breathing through the fear, the fear for himself, fear for Sam.

He felt a small sting on the back of his hand, caught sight of the I.V bag suspended above him, next to the old man, who Dean wasn't so sure was real anymore, but the paramedic was talking to him so he guessed that he probably was and that his mind was pretty screwed up right now. He saw the syringe, saw the fluid quickly join the I.V that was sending much needed fluid into his damaged body and then he started to feel kind of fuzzy and numb, his breathing eased as he floated in the back of the ambulance, only vaguely aware of what was going on around him.

He dimly thought that it should hurt more when they poked and prodded at his injured leg, but it was just a minor irritation, he quite enjoyed this floaty state.

Everything seemed to happen in flashes then, his eyes drifted closed and when he opened them the sunlight was pouring in through the doors, making him squint, his lids closed against the glare. The next time he was being wheeled along a corridor, the smell of disinfectant making his eyes stay open longer this time, and then he was somewhere else, a room with machines and people in plastic clothing, and they were still poking him, pulling at his clothes, cutting them from his body, exposing his injured leg and bruised ribs.

He grunted and tried to struggle, but he was tied down too strongly, part of his mind told him that it was fine, they were Doctors, they were just doing their job, but the other irrational part, that was already overworking with fear for his brother, was telling him that he had to stop them from touching him, that he had to get free, that they could do anything they wanted to him and he was powerless to stop it.

What he guessed was a nurse appeared in his vision, talking loudly, he thought that she might have hold of his hand but couldn't be sure. Her other hand was wiping under his eyes, was he crying? He had to pull himself together.

"Sam?"

A brief look of confusion flitted across her face and she gently eased the oxygen mask away from his mouth.

"I have to find my brother." Speaking should have been easier now he wasn't so thirsty but his tongue felt too big and strange.

"Don't worry about him, we'll get you fixed up and I'll see what I can find out."

"No." Damn it he had to make them see "I need to take care of him, he's out there alone."

"Sir, you need to relax, there's another ambulance on its way in, they probably have your brother. Now please calm down, you've lost a lot of blood, you're dehydrated and your body temperature is very low."

She shoved the mask back on his face, he tried to talk, tried to make them see, but they were there weren't listening to him, just talking about him and pumping things into him, things making him sleepy. He couldn't fight the pull of the drugs anymore and he let it pull him into oblivion.

tbc

xxx

ok I know I just keep knocking them out at the end of chapters but meh. anyway thank you so much to everyone who took the time to read, and especially to those people who review I'm really glad that you're enjoying it.


	5. Chapter 5

Just to say, I may have gotten some of the medical stuff wrong, but I'm not a Doctor, I do hope that you enjoy though.

xxx

The steady melodic beeping drilled through to his subconscious, the fog cleared slowly, he took in the pale green walls, the scratchy yet comfy sheets, the curtain rail, the pulsing machines that were telling the world he was still alive.

The memories came dawdling back, his mind was in no hurry to remember, he wasn't panicking though, he thought he should be panicking, they must have given him something, he remembered them giving him something last time he was in the hospital, when he'd got confused and scared and he'd started lashing out, and the drugs had kept him from thinking too much, from remembering. But he needed to remember now, needed to not be so docile, because Sam was somewhere and he needed him.

He sat up and promptly fell back down again when the world tilted at an unnatural angle; he tried again, slower and held onto the side of the bed to steady himself. His movements felt slow and sluggish and he guessed they must have him on the good stuff, he tossed back the covers and was disturbed to not only find his leg encased in a heavy duty bandage but that he was wearing a freaking hospital gown, the sudden chill announced that he was very likely bare assed as well.

Screw dignity. Swinging his legs over the side, he tugged out the variety of needles and sticky things covering him, the machines made ominous noises and as he pushed himself out of bed a spike of pain shot up through his leg and sent him tumbling to the floor, just as a team of various medical practitioners burst through the doors all guns blazing and abruptly stopped at the sight of his empty bed. If it was any other time he would have laughed at the looks of confusion they all shared and the way their heads simultaneously moved down to him on the floor before the majority of them left.

"Sir, you need to get back into bed." A nurse and orderly hauled him up.

Dean grunted and tried to shrug them off but his efforts were useless and he found himself once again being manhandled onto the bed.

"Look, I need to find my brother, Sam, I'll just find him and I'll get my ass right back into bed I swear."

"I'm sorry Sir, you're really not up to being out of bed, is your brother waiting for you? I could go and check?"

"I don't know! Look lady, he was hurt, when they brought me in he was freaking unconscious and they wouldn't let me go get him! Now tell me where he is!"

"Sir, I understand you're upset but I will not tolerate you speaking to staff in that tone of voice."

God this chick was really starting to piss him off, but if he overreacted then he'd never find him.

"Ok, I'm sorry. Look, his name is Sam, he's 23, insanely tall, he's got this kind of wild hair," he chuckled sadly to himself "please he's my little brother, I just need to know he's safe."

He watched the sympathy register in the young Nurse's eyes and he breathed a small sigh of relief when she nodded and headed out the door, leaving him alone with the orderly.

"Hey, uh... do you think I could get some pants or something, the dress is making me kind of uncomfortable."

The orderly turned to face him and Dean choked down a cry as Nick grinned at him. He froze in horror as he slowly sauntered round to the side of the bed and leaned into Dean's ear.

"Sammy's not coming Dean. He's never coming back again, if you hadn't left him all alone I never could have got him, and believe me, I got him," he let out a manic laugh "I mean if you only knew the things I'd done to him, it'd make what happened to you seem like a walk in the park."

Dean couldn't move, even though the rage was bubbling inside him it wasn't nearly as strong as the sorrow and fear that made him tremble.

"And then I killed him." it was a simple statement that carried no emotion, but it was the worst thing that Dean could hear.

"Sorry Dean, you'll never see baby brother again. But you'll see me again; I'll be back for you don't worry."

The nurse poked her head back in the door and gestured for the orderly, "Sorry, I couldn't find him, but we're pretty busy out here right now, he'll probably turn up later."

She flashed Dean a sympathetic smile before disappearing and leaving Dean alone with his misery.

xxx

It was quite easy really, he'd been sneaking stuff from people for years, it just took more time, but they didn't know him so it was still really simple, almost too simple, a little challenge would have been a nice way to round everything up, but it didn't matter really.

Just get it done in stages, it had to be in stages because they were all keeping too close an eye on him, he just knew it was only a matter of time before it was Nick's turn to keep an eye on him and that was so not going to happen.

They came in to fix his stitches, he'd popped some when he fell out of bed and so they came in with their professional expressions plastered to their faces, with their little tray of tools, and all it took was for him to lean forwards, wanting to see what was going on and accidently knock the tray with his arm so that some of the little instruments went clattering to the floor, and while he was apologising and the disgruntled male nurse was gathering things from the floor and no doubt cursing the fact that they were all going to have to be sterilized again, Dean neatly slid the scalpel into his hand and hid it under the covers.

Then it was just a question of waiting for the right opportunity, but they weren't leaving him alone, there always seemed to be someone either right outside the door or finding something to do to him, plus the medication made him drowsy and he kept drifting in and out of consciousness.

Then they came to feed him, the girl looked nervous, and he guessed he either freaked her out or she was new, she confirmed the latter.

It was kind of degrading having someone stand watch while he choked down his mashed up food, but it didn't really matter, it was practically over anyway, it was time to make his move.

He reached out for his glass of orange juice and feigned surprise when it slipped from his grasp, soaking himself and sending the rest splashing onto the floor.

"Oh God, I'm sorry."

"Oh, don't worry about it, it happens." The girl smiled reassuringly.

"Damn, I'm soaked, think you could grab me a change of clothes, some pants would be better than this dress anyway." He gave her the most charming smile he could muster.

"I um... I'm not really supposed to leave you alone; if you try and get out of bed again you could fall and bust your stitches."

"Yeah, that hurt, don't worry I sure as hell won't be doing that again in a hurry, go on I'm not going anywhere."

She wavered slightly and then walked briskly from the room giving promises that she'd be right back.

Dean wasted no time; the minute the door clicked closed he launched himself out of bed, landing on his good leg and clicked the lock on the door, he didn't doubt that they had a key but it would at least buy him a few more seconds, then he wheeled the heavy bed over and put on the brakes, and added a couple of the heavy machines for good measure, the whole process took longer than it would if he'd been at full capacity, it meant that he had to move faster.

He hobbled into the adjacent bathroom, and slid to the floor leaning against the closed door, he wasn't going to make it easy for them. He was a bit sad to be leaving, but all he had to live for was gone, Sam was dead, and that meant that he was too, it hurt too much, he couldn't carry on without him, knowing that it was his fault that he was dead, that the bastard they'd though was gone forever did who knows what to him, it was too much to bear.

He twirled the scalpel in his hands, knowing that he didn't have a lot of time, his hand was trembling as he applied gentle pressure to his forearm, watching the thin trail of blood trickle down his arm, it provided relief, but not enough, there was only one thing that could stop this.

His breath hitched as he tried not to sob, the tears began to spill down his face, the pain was so consuming, he felt so desolate and alone.

The blade sliced neatly through his flesh as he drew it up his wrist, blood spilled quickly out of the vertical cut, thick red liquid covering the pristine white of his hospital gown.

It hurt, stung like a bitch, but he just had to do it once more then it was just a matter of waiting.

He could hear someone hammering on the door outside, muffled voices; he had to finish it quick.

The scalpel fell from his numb fingers as he tried to cut his other wrist, they tingled as he picked it back up, this one was harder, he had to concentrate more on pushing it in deep, he was struggling to hold on to it, his hand had lost almost all strength and it was slippery from all the blood, but somehow he managed it, and he just watched his life leak all over the floor.

There was a lot of blood, he didn't think that he'd still be conscious when there was all this blood around; especially after all he'd lost from his leg.

They were banging on the door behind him now, someone throwing their weight at it, it didn't matter, there wasn't much they could do now anyway.

It was over.

xxx

Sam was pissed. No Sam was beyond pissed, he was livid, positive that the majority of the staff here had been lobotomised, droning out the same phrases over and over. And no one would tell him where his brother was.

He'd come to in the back of the ambulance, groggy and confused, but clear in the knowledge that Dean was in trouble, but he hadn't been able to do anything about it because they'd sedated him, so they could deal with his injuries and the world had been hazy for a while and it was at least a day later by the time he woke up and no one would tell him what was going on so he was very pissed and he'd had enough, he'd answered their questions, given some bullshit about them falling down a pothole after thinking it was a good idea to go walking in the woods on a night out, now it was their turn to answer him.

After getting dressed he headed over to the desk.

"I need to find my brother."

"Sir, please return to your room. If you'll just be patient someone will be with you shortly and you can discuss all your issues with them then."

Sam counted to ten a bit to quickly in his head; he so didn't have time for this Doctor's crap.

"Look, when I came in he was in the other ambulance, I really need to make sure he's ok, he was really hurt."

"Are you Sam?" he turned to see a pretty young nurse standing behind him.

"Yes."

"Your brother will be relieved, he's been asking about you."

Sam could have hugged her he was so happy "Can I see him?"

"I'll take you, his Doctor might want to speak with you about a few things, but then you really need to get back to bed."

"Yeah, sure, I just need to see him, he gets worried if I'm missing."

Sam was agitated at how close their rooms were, on the same damn ward, all this time. He tried to listen as Dean's doctor spoke, reeling off a list of things that were wrong with his brother.

"Mr Bonham, when your brother was admitted he was in a very distressed state, we were forced to sedate him in order to prevent him from harming himself or others. He was severely dehydrated, had lost a lot of blood and was very nearly hypothermic. But the thing that concerns me most is he seemed to be under the influence of some kind of drug, and has experienced some hallucinations."

"Yeah, he erm... he was really thirsty and I know I shouldn't have let him, but he drank some water, then he started acting weird, seeing things."

"Well we believe most of it is out of his system now, but I am still very worried about the state of his mental health, we had to restitch his leg when he got out of bed and seems very distressed, we're keeping a close eye on him but I must ask if he has suffered anything like this before."

Sam glanced at the floor, he really didn't want to be discussing this with a complete stranger, still if it would help Dean.

"He uh... there was an incident a year ago, he's better now, but he tried to kill himself." His mind flashed back to that horrible night on the bridge.

"We noticed a number of scars that are consistent with self-harm, do you know anything about this Mr Bonham?"

"What? No, Dean's not like that. He's better, he's moved on." Sam hated the way the doctor just stared at his chart, making notes that he couldn't see.

"And has he received any counselling for his suicide attempt?"

But Sam wasn't listening; something had caught his attention down the hall, by Dean's room. A nurse was banging on a door, her attempts becoming more and more frantic. He reached her in record time, he knew it was Dean's door and as she ran for a key he took up her spot trying to bash down the door. Peering through the window he was dismayed to see the barricade against the door.

"DEAN! DEAN OPEN THE DOOR! SOMEBODY HELP!"

The nurse was back, hands shaking as she fumbled with the lock a small crowd was gathering, Doctors and burly orderly's ready to barge their way in.

"I'm sorry I only left him for a minute." She babbled but Sam didn't have time to worry about her feelings, not when his brother was in trouble. The door clicked open and he shoved hard, shifting the bed enough for him to climb in while the staff clumsily worked at moving the equipment out of the way.

Light was spilling from under the bathroom door, and so was something else, something dark and think and red, and there was too much of it, way too much. He hammered on the door, begging, pleading Dean to answer him.

There was more red stuff now, it was on his shoes. He threw himself at the door again and again until it gave, but it still wouldn't open, there was something blocking it, something that slid sickeningly across the floor when he pushed. He slid in through the door and his heart broke.

It couldn't be Dean. Dean was strong and funny and full of life, the figure on the floor, was pale and small.

_Pull it together Sam, he needs you now_. He mentally kicked himself into gear, dropping to the floor he grabbed a towel and wrapped it tightly around Dean's wrists, pressing down hard like his life depended on it; Dean's life did depend on it though.

He screamed for help, screamed at the people flooding through the door to help him, and then they were pulling Dean away from him. They couldn't do that, because he needed to hold the blood in, hold Dean's life in his hands, and if he wasn't there then they might not do it right, but they were taking him away, pulling the gurney out into the hall where there was shouting and everyone was so busy. And it took Sam a minute to realise that he was alone in the bathroom, that everyone had gone, they had taken his brother and were trying to fix him, while he was kneeling on the floor of a hospital bathroom in a town he couldn't even remember, and he was red. His clothes, his hands, he was kneeling in a pool of his brother's blood, and there shouldn't be this much blood.

Dumbly he reached down to pluck a shiny object from the pool, the blood dripped of its metallic surface and he knew that's what Dean used to kill himself.

_Try! _His mind cut in _Try and kill himself. He's not dead._

And then he was stumbling to his feet, slipping in the horrible redness and people gasped back from him in the hall, shocked at the state of him, some people tried to help but he pushed them away, mumbling something about it not being his blood, and stood outside the glass doors as a team of strangers tried to save his brother's life.

tbc

xxx

again thank you so much for reading and all your reviews they make my day!


	6. Chapter 6

Sorry for the slow update, and the slight shortness of this chapter but I've just moved back to uni and have been insanely busy catching up with people, but I still hope you enjoy! Sorry if I didn't get the medical stuff right.

xxx

Sam felt numb, he'd been sitting there for hours, staring at his brother's lifeless form, afraid to touch him, the only signs of life were the machines bleeping out the slow and steady beat of his heart.

It had been too close this time, he'd flatlined on the table and Sam's legs had turned to jelly, sending him falling to the floor and hadn't moved until someone came to tell him that his brother was stabilized and not dead.

They'd moved him to recovery then, telling Sam things like he was being put on suicide watch, and being restrained while they assessed his mental status. Sam almost went hysterical at that, it was a bit late for suicide watch and restraints. But right now because Dean was out of it, and there was no way he could move to kill himself anyway, they were alone.

Sam was dozing with his head on the bed next to Dean's arm when Dean woke up. Panic instantly spiking through him when he realised he couldn't move his arms. Sam was immediately on alert, trying to calm him down, telling him to take it easy, that everything was ok now he was here. He froze when Dean stopped struggling, when he looked at Sam with an unreadable expression.

"No." he whispered quietly "Not you, you're dead, you're dead."

"What? Dean I'm not dead I'm fine, I'm right here."

"No, he told me he had you, told me you were dead. Why aren't I dead?" he sounded so small and innocent then, like a scared and confused child and Sam's eyes welled up with tears that he had a hard time blinking back.

"Because I found you Dean, I always find you, remember?" he placed a hand gently on Dean's cheek "Do you feel that? Do you feel me? I'm not dead Dean, I'm right here."

"Sammy?" Dean's own tears were spilling down his cheeks now; he tried to reach out a hand to his brother, but couldn't even move, he couldn't even touch him.

"Yeah, I'm ok. Hey, you need to chill ok? You're pretty busted up, don't hurt yourself even more." His voice hitched and the dam broke, all the pain and fear came pouring out and he buried his head on Dean's shoulder and cried like when he was small and had just woken from a nightmare and Dean was there to make everything better, except this time the nightmare was Dean, was Dean's life and what he was doing to himself.

"Shh. It's ok Sammy, everything'll be ok."

"Why'd you do it Dean?" his voice was muffled against his brother's shoulder.

"I couldn't live without you Sammy. You know that."

"But I'm not dead Dean, why did you think I was dead?"

"Nick told me." He was starting to get sleepy again.

"Nick?" Sam looked up at Dean, his eyes drooping closed "Nick's gone Dean."

"S'not, keep seein' him. Won't let me go."

Sam watched as Dean fell asleep, he really hated Imps.

xxx

They danced the same dance for the next 24 hours, Dean waking up disoriented and confused, Sam having to reassure him that they were both still alive, that they were both safe. It was exhausting, in a way it got easier when they eased Dean of the sedatives that clouded his brain, but it was harder too, because now they had to deal with being scrutinized, when Sam just wanted some time for them to both deal, to recover, to talk.

Now that Dean was more lucid, it was somehow harder to broach the subject, to talk about everything that had happened. Sam knew they also had to be careful what they said because people were coming by every 15 minutes to make sure that Dean hadn't tried to kill himself again, and they'd be stepping up the security measures if Dean didn't keep calm, but being restrained made him relive what had happened and he hated not being able to move his arms. He felt trapped.

"Come on Sam, you have to get me out of these things, it's stupid." Dean had been trying every trick he knew to release his arms from the strong restraints, but nothing was working, and every time he pulled and tugged, tried to squeeze his hands through, the throbbing pain in his wrists flared, reminding him why he was here in the first place.

Sam seemed fixated the silver bed railing, keeping Dean in his view but he hadn't been able to look him in the eye for a long time.

"I can't Dean, you know that," he mumbled "please stop asking me."

"Sam, everything's fine now, you're fine, I mean if you say that I was seeing things then I'll believe you man. I just need to move."

Sam remained silent, when Dean had been sleeping, he'd looked at his brother and wondered when he stopped seeing him, when he stopped noticing that Dean seemed so much thinner now, that Dean had been wearing long sleeves for a long time now, he wondered when the last time was that he'd seen Dean with much skin showing, he dressed in the bathroom or when Sam was in the bathroom and his arms were always covered up, Sam had assumed that Dean just didn't feel comfortable anymore unless he was covered up. He knew he'd got scars from Nick's little torture treatment, but wondered sadly why he hadn't noticed the thin, pale pink lines that were scattered over his forearms, the scars that hadn't been there when he'd rescued him, the ones there were too many of for them to all be accidental. He wondered why Dean hadn't told him.

"Sam! Look at me." Slowly Sam raised his weary head so he could look at his brother. Dean was propped up slightly on clean white pillows, he looked lost on the bed, he was so pale and white, white was an ok colour though, it was better than red, there had been too much red, he wondered vaguely how long it had taken them to clean up.

"Nothing's going to happen if you just let me out for 5 minutes." He tried to smile, keeping his voice light.

Sam dropped his eyes back down to Dean's arms "You might hurt yourself again." There he'd said it, Pandora's Box was open and everything was about to fly out.

"I won't. It was cos I thought he'd killed you." Dean was staring at the ceiling now and Sam recognised the classic, Dean Winchester preparing to shut down emotionally procedure, they had to talk now.

"It's not just that Dean and you know it. How long have you been doing that to yourself?"

Dean tried not to wince at the pain in Sam's voice, pain that he'd caused, he wished more than ever now that he had his hands free so he could cover up the evidence, he decided the evasive tactic was probably best.

"Well Sammy, when boys grow up and start to become men..."

"DAMN IT DEAN!" Sam slammed his hand down on the side of the bed, his outburst stunning Dean into silence. "This isn't a joke! You tried to kill yourself, you slit your fucking wrists open and I had to find you! Do you have any idea what that was like?"

Dean shook his head "I don't know what you want me to do."

"Start by not lying to me, because you've been cutting yourself for a long time now haven't you? Answer me Dean you owe me that much!"

"I don't mean to," his head was turned away and his voice quiet, easier to hide the emotions that way "I don't like doing it, makes me feel kinda shit, but... but it's better than thinking about it. It's nothing big, just a way of dealing with stuff."

"Dean, that's not dealing. That's just... finding a bad way to take your mind off something else bad."

"Well I won't do it again ok? Happy now?"

Sam sighed "It's not that easy Dean, you know it's not that easy. Tell me this, how many times have you tried to stop? Told yourself it was the last time."

Dean's silence spoke volumes and Sam let it settle briefly between them before he proposed the inevitable.

"They want you to talk to someone."

Dean actually laughed out loud "Dude I'm so not pouring my heart out to a freaking shrink! Forget it!"

"You don't have a choice. Don't you understand what you've done, you died Dean, you bled out and they barely got you back. They aren't going to let you go until you talk to someone, I mean you're on suicide watch for crying out loud!"

Dean hated the way Sam's voice rose hysterically, almost as much as he hated the thought of talking to a damn shrink, it was so not happening.

"It's us Sam, if we want out, we can get out."

"Not under 24 hour surveillance, not with you drugged up to the eyeballs, which you will be if you carry on like this." He paused shifting his gaze away "Besides, I think it's a good idea."

The look Dean gave him was almost comical, or it would have been if everything hadn't gone straight to hell.

"I'm not talking to a shrink Sammy, I'd rather kill myself."

Dean might as well have kicked a puppy in the face the way Sam was looking at him, the hurt etched clearly on his face.

"Sammy I..."

Sam stood in silence and walked out of the room, leaving Dean alone yet again.

tbc

xxx

again, sorry it's short, but please review and let me know your thoughts, reviews make for faster updates :)


	7. Chapter 7

Again, sorry it's a bit short, but I'm pretty busy atm and figured I'd better get something out rather than nothing. I'm not too sure about this chapter, but I hope you enjoy!

xxx

"I'm only doing this cos I pissed my brother off."

"We're here to talk about you Dean not your brother."

Dean felt beyond uncomfortable, there was nothing menacing about the Doctor, he looked pretty chilled out, in his 30's or early 40's and looking pretty smart casual, he guessed they would have gotten on in another life. But he resented the fact that he was here to make him talk, that he was going to decide his fate, but he thought he'd better play along a little.

"Tell me why you tried to commit suicide."

"I thought my brother was dead."

"Why?"

"You saw my freaking chart I was drugged and hallucinating, I thought someone told me they'd killed him."

"Who told you this?"

_Game face on at all times Dean_ "I don't know, I was high as a kite."

"This isn't the first time you've tried to take your own life though is it Dean?"

The shock on his face was genuine "How do you know about that?"

"Your brother told us about your history."

"Sam? What did he tell you?"

"Not much, he didn't want to betray your confidence, just that you were kidnapped and suffered a traumatic experience last year, he wouldn't elaborate. Would you like to tell me?"

For once Dean didn't care about this guy's patronising attitude, his heart had leapt into his throat at the thought of someone else finding out what happened, he wasn't mad at Sam though, God knew he'd put that kid through shit and he was still there for him.

"He um... I don't want to talk about it. I'll tell you everything else just don't ask me to talk about it."

"Ok Dean, but I think we may have to address it at some point, it's obvious you still have some issues with it."

Dean wished more than ever that his arms were free; he could feel the shrink scrutinizing his arms, the crisscrossed scars that littered the skin and had to fight the urge to struggle against the restraints.

"It was bad, ok? It was bad but I got out, and afterwards it kinda sucked, and I did some bad things, got drunk and decided it was a good idea to top myself. There's no great saga to it, I was just hammered and threw myself off a bridge. But Sammy saved me, like he saved me this time."

"Have you talked to Sam about your issues?"

"He's the only one I can talk to."

xxx

"Dude he actually wanted me to cry!"

Sam was barely through the door before Dean was shouting at him.

"Seriously! He had a freaking box of tissues and everything, I mean what the hell?"

Despite everything Sam had to chuckle, Dean looked so indignant, and even though he was still strapped down managed to look insanely pissed off.

"So how'd it go?" he sunk into the chair at the side of Dean's bed, stretching his legs up so his feet were touching his brother's, Dean tried to kick them off huffily.

"It was a frigging nightmare, he was all cool and calm and I'm pretty sure he was a robot, we should probably kill him."

"Yeah that'll really help your case."

"I'd totally give him something to cry about." Dean laughed at his own joke.

"Do you want me to see if you can have someone different to talk to?"

"I don't want to talk to anyone at all. But since you're making me, I might as well stick with robot man."

They resumed their new routine, Sam listening patiently and intently as Dean rambled on about inane topics, waiting for any sign that Dean would give to let him know what was really going on in his head. They kept this up for hours, until Dean got tired and Sam turned to research, trying to find out how he could kill the things responsible for all this, but knowing that they'd already salted and burned the main culprit.

xxx

"The Doctor's say you're doing ok, they might move you off suicide watch soon."

"Thank God, I don't think I can say much more to this guy, he is essentially a brick wall."

"You still have to do the therapy Dean."

"We'll see."

Sam stifled a yawn, not wanting Dean to make him leave just yet, but knowing he would all the same.

"Get some sleep Sam." Dean was worried about his little brother, he was barely sleeping and spending almost all of his time at Dean's bed side, not that he was complaining, it was Sam that was keeping him sane, keeping him grounded, keeping him from completely flipping out every time he opened his eyes and it took him a minute to remember why he was strapped down.

"I'm fine Dean seriously."

"Dude, just go to the motel and get some sleep. I'm gonna sleep so you'll be bored by yourself."

"Yeah, but what if you-"

"Sam I'll be fine, I've gotta sleep alone some time right?"

"Not really, we spend our lives in the same motel rooms."

"You know what I meant, now get outta here you're making me cranky."

Sam squeezed Dean's shoulder and left quickly, before he could change his mind, he'd just go to the motel on the corner, do some research, catch a couple of hours on a soft bed and be back before Dean knew he was gone.

Dean watched Sam leave and shrank back on to the pillow. He seriously wanted out of here, being on suicide watch was not something he had down on his list, he didn't like it when Sam left, he didn't like being alone with his thoughts, he knew his fears were irrational but couldn't help them flooding his brain and they followed him into an uneasy sleep.

xxx

The release of pressure was good, even though the movement caused pain to spike in his bandaged wrists. He scrunched his eyebrows in confusion, knowing that something was wrong but unable to figure out what.

Then it hit him, he was being released, his restraints were coming off, allowing him the freedom to gingerly rotate his hands. But it wasn't right, he knew they weren't letting him go yet. Whispering voices called to him in the dark, tiny hands pulling at his clothes, tugging at his hair, trying to get him to sit up. He obliged, hissing in pain as he tried to push himself up, forgetting his damaged wrists and fell back down, breathing through the pain.

The voices encouraged him to try again, helping him sit up, their playful voices calling for him to follow them, to follow them to Sammy.

It felt strange to be out of bed, he was vaguely pleased they hadn't dressed him in a hospital gown this time, but didn't pay too much attention to it. Bright light spilled in as the door opened, illuminating his escape. He stumbled towards it drunkenly, staggering into the door frame on his way out; passing a nurse that was staring into space, smiling dreamily at some unseen entity, giggling softly as it performed its dances and tricks.

The nurse didn't stop him, didn't even see him as the voices led him down a quiet corridor, to the emergency exit, and he was nudging the door open with his shoulder, weaving down the steps and out into the night.

He didn't notice the cold night, didn't feel as he trod on broken glass in bare feet, was only aware of the sense of freedom of peace, of finding Sam.

A blare of a car horn as it sped past him dangerously close, roused him somewhat, made him pay more attention to his surroundings, he didn't want to die while trying to find Sam, it would make Sam mad and he'd yell at him again.

The lights of the motel sign beckoned him on, led him to Sam, he saw his car in the parking lot, saw one of the room doors open, saw a tall figure emerge. Something was wrong though, it was covered in blood, the blood was bad, he knew that from how Sam had reacted before when his blood had been all over the floor. He knew it was bad because the room was the one the Impala was parked in front of, he knew it was bad because Nick was wearing Sam's clothes, he knew it was bad because Sam was dead.

tbc


	8. Chapter 8

Wow, I just realised tonight that it's been about 3 weeks since I updated, for those of you reading and particularly reviewing this story I am insanely sorry, it was a combination of real life getting in the way and one hell of a writer's block. Anyway I hope you enjoy it and please let me know what you think.

xxx

It came as a shock for Sam; he really wasn't expecting it to happen. Wasn't expecting to come of the motel room to get back to Dean before he woke up and get tackled to the floor.

He would have reacted faster, but they were on top of him, and in an instant had smashed his face into the concrete. He saw stars, which took even longer to clear when his head was reunited with the rainy ground. It was a stroke of luck that he managed to twist around before whoever it was made it a hat trick.

Being a Winchester though it was a case of out of the frying pan into the fire, because his throat was being constricted, strong, angry hands choking the life from him, he felt something wet and slimy drip onto his neck, heard sounds of anguish that he was sure weren't coming from him.

He threw his fist out blindly, briefly satisfied when it connected and the pressure on his throat and chest released as his assailant tumbled back off him. He had to get the higher ground fast. He reached out, grabbed him by the hair and took aim.

"Dean?"

"You bastard! You son of a BITCH!" Dean lashed out wildly again, forcing Sam to pin his arms to his sides, he was still stunned from the assault and his mind was taking a while to process.

"Dean calm down! What the hell are you doing here?"

"You killed him! You killed him! You killed him!"

Lights were starting to flicker on, people disturbed by the distressing noises in the early hours of the morning. Sam dragged Dean back into the motel room. Dean thrashed in Sam's arms, trying to get lose, trying to get to Sam.

"DEAN! What are you doing? It's me, it's Sam, talk to me."

Dean didn't hear him though, and Sam realised it was desperate measures times, he pinned his brother under him with a knee to the back, this just made Dean howl and scream even louder, the death threats more inventive, while Sam groped madly for the handcuffs in his duffle.

He seriously hated doing it, but managed to get Dean secured to the radiator under the window where he pulled so hard Sam was worried the damn thing was going to come right off the wall and then they'd never get their deposit back.

It was then that he noticed Dean's hands, the pristine white bandages were now stained a horrible red, his stitches had busted with all his efforts to attack Sam.

"Shit! Dean you need to calm down. What's wrong?"

Dean's efforts dwindled as strength left him, and he slumped against the wall, he had that look on his face that Sam had come to hate over the years, the one that said he was drawing into himself, going somewhere he felt safe and warm. Sam had to keep him here, had to get through to him before it was too late and he lost him.

"Hey!" he tapped the side of his face gently Dean's unfocused gaze shifted to him, his eyes registering fear and loss. "Who did I kill?"

Dean spat in his face causing Sam to flinch in shock, his brother had never done anything like that to him before.

"Please tell me, who did I kill?"

"Sam." Dean hissed through clenched teeth, contempt written all over his face. "You killed Sam, you sick son of a bitch."

"Huh? Dean it's me, it's Sam, what's going on with you?"

"Just kill me." His voice was oddly hollow, his face pale and empty. It suddenly dawned on Sam who Dean thought he was and he ran to the bathroom slamming his knees to the floor before he threw up what little food he'd eaten.

Once the heaves subsided he stood on shaking limbs to wash his face, he stared at his reflection in the mirror, half expecting to see the face of Nick looking back at him but only saw himself, looking exactly the same except for his clammy face, the haunted look in his eyes and the smears of blood on his neck. This last one confused him slightly, he couldn't remember Dean cutting him, he touched his hands gingerly to his throat, unable to find a source, suddenly realising that Dean was bleeding, it was his brother's blood and he'd just left him alone and desperate in the room. He'd already tried to kill himself once because he thought Sam was dead.

Peeking his head tentatively around the door, he found Dean in the exact same position he'd left him, slumped against the wall, staring into space, occasionally tugging on the handcuffs that were now stained with his blood.

He didn't acknowledge Sam's presence until Sam attempted to remove the blood soaked bandages from Dean's wrists, then he lashed out, kicking and screaming, an array of colourful death threats issuing forth, Sam had to admit they were pretty creative. Dean managed to land a forceful kick to Sam's abdomen, winding him and reducing him to a gasping heap on the motel room floor.

Sam didn't know what to do. The rational part of him wanted to call the hospital so they could deal with it, but if he did that then what would that do to Dean, they'd think he was crazy, they'd keep him restrained, put him on the psych ward, keep him drugged up so he didn't know what was happening, and when Sam managed to fix everything he still wouldn't have his brother back, because he'd be locked away and all trace of him would be wiped clear. No that wasn't an option, not yet anyway, he had to get Dean a little saner before he took him back there.

Dean didn't understand, didn't want to understand, Nick was sitting opposite him, leaning against the bed with his head in his hands, he thought he might even be crying. He was insane, he'd just murdered his baby brother, after doing who knows what to him and was crying now. He knew that he'd change soon, that he'd get nasty or get happy, neither was an option that Dean wanted to think too much about. He wanted to switch off, for his mind to go somewhere else, just leave his body and the pain of this reality and go away. But he couldn't, why couldn't he just check out mentally, why did he have to deal with this hell, live with this agony until Nick had his fun and killed him.

If he was lucky then maybe he'd bleed out, he knew his stitches were open, could feel the blood pulsing from his wrists, but it would take a while, he could try and wrench the cuts open further with the handcuffs, or maybe he'd get free while trying and he could kill Nick and then kill himself. That would be preferable but he wasn't fussy really, just as long as it was over before too long.

But as soon as he started squirming again, Nick was by his side, first aid box in hand, tugging at his wrists, trying to keep him alive long enough to play his sick games, he increased his efforts, wincing when he felt a small prick on his arm as the mild sedative coursed through his system, leaving him awake but useless while Nick cleaned his wounds and stitched him back up with trembling hands.

xxx

Sam glanced up from his computer screen to check on his brother. Dean was still asleep, laid awkwardly on the bed with his hands restrained above his head. He'd eventually fallen asleep, a combination of the drugs and exhaustion and Sam had taken the opportunity to get him into a comfier position, even though he hated doing anything that might remind his brother of everything he went through, but he had more important things to worry about at the moment, like keeping Dean from killing them both in his delirious state.

Dean had been out of it for a few hours now, while Sam had been researching like crazy, determined that whatever was happening to his brother had to be supernatural in nature. He couldn't face it if Dean really had lost it completely; he had to believe there was a way back.

Dean began to stir but Sam was afraid to go near him, he didn't want to think of how Dean would react if he still thought Sam was Nick, especially with his arms tied above his head. He perched anxiously on the edge of his seat as Dean struggled back to consciousness, watched as his eyes fluttered open and focused on his surroundings, watched as his breathing increased when he realised why he couldn't move his hands, watched as his eyes finally fell on him and he held his breath.

"Sammy?" It came out as barely more than a groan but to Sam it was the most beautiful sound he had ever heard, and he was at Dean's side in an instant.

"Yeah, Dean it's ok, just try to relax it's for your own good, nothing's gonna happen to you."

"How'd I get..." he bolted upright before he was hindered by the handcuffs "Sam! You're alive! You're alive you're alive you're alive!" he repeated it over and over as if trying to convince himself that it was real and he wasn't imagining it.

"Yeah, do you remember what happened?"

"What happened to your face?"

"You err... you got confused."

"I did that?"

"It wasn't your fault."

"I thought you were dead."

"Yeah something sure wants you to think that huh?"

"But you're not dead? Nick's dead?"

"I'm alive, and Nick's long gone. Look, Dean I've been checking out those Imps we were hunting, they're not what I thought, they mess with your mind, get fixed on someone and don't let go, and then they uh..."

"Then they uh what?"

"You taste better when you're scared basically."

"They want to eat me?" Dean sounded indignant, he so did not care for the prospect of something finding him yummy when he was living out his worst nightmares, in fact he didn't care for the prospect of being eaten at all.

"Dude it's so not cool that they want to eat me. Wait, how come they don't want to eat you?"

"Guess they have bad taste." At Dean's glare he continued "I think it's cos you were down there longer than me, and you drank that water, that I so told you not to."

"Yeah, alright you win." Dean licked his lips "Sammy? Do you uh... do you think you could let me out of these things?"

Sam glanced at that floor "Sorry Dean, not gonna happen."

"Come on Sam, we know what's going on now, we'll take care of it and everything'll be fine."

"How can you say that? Dean nothing about this is fine, you're hurting yourself, and you keep trying to kill yourself. I'm taking you back to the hospital."

"No way, I'm not going back there. I only just got out!"

"You're not well Dean, you need help."

"Dude I'll heal, just another day at the office."

"You need help mentally Dean." Sam's voice was quiet, soft and hurt, and it took Dean a moment to pull himself back together to continue his campaign for freedom.

"Yeah, well think about what's going to happen if you do take me back there, they'll never let me go, I got out Sam and they're gonna freak, not to mention that I managed to mess myself up even more. They're never going to let me go, they'll keep me strapped down, and then they'll just pump drugs into me and I'll never get out Sam."

Dean had been getting more and more worked up throughout his rant and Sam grabbed his shoulders gently to calm him down when he saw he was on the edge of a panic attack.

"Please Sam," Dean looked desperate but hopeless "Please don't make me go back there."

"I'm sorry Dean, I can't watch you doing this to yourself anymore." Sam's eyes were bright with tears as he held onto his brother, and Dean let him, afraid that if he let go then they'd lose each other forever.

"Ok. Ok Sammy I'll go back, but you have to let me do this hunt with you first."

"Dean I –"

"No, it's too dangerous to do it alone, you need someone to back you up, and this is the only way I'll go back to that place."

"Well we'd better go do it soon, the longer you're out, the longer they'll want to keep you."

"Just don't leave me Sam. Please."

"I never will."

xxx

Out in the middle of nowhere seemed to be a bit of an understatement, both brother's were shocked at how far from civilization they'd been taken, and marvelled at the fact that they'd made it out alive, injured and crawling underground in the dark.

They'd driven as far as they could before they had to move on foot through dense woodland, going mainly on Sam's weird memory for direction and his love of research, any kind of research even if it was old disused holes with connecting escape tunnels.

Dean shivered against the night air, even though it wasn't very cold, the past few days (or was it weeks? It was all bleeding together) were taking their toll on him, he was weak and tired and running on a lot less blood than his body was used to. Sam seemed aware of this and had slowed his pace to accommodate his brother.

Dean had been getting weaker and more disoriented the longer they walked and Sam's worry was starting to spike, Dean was dragging his feet, weaving drunkenly and had even hit the floor a couple of times, and if it wasn't so serious, Sam would have burst out laughing when Dean staggered to the side and toppled head first over a bush. Instead, he pulled him out, straightened him up and promised himself that when everything was back to normal he'd remind Dean of his lack of balance and laugh long and hard while Dean got annoyed and pouted.

He was just starting to think that maybe they should turn round and get the hell back to the hospital or find something to tie Dean to before he had another episode and began seeing Nick where he should have been seeing his little brother when he tripped on something and did an ungraceful face-plant into the dirt.

He heard Dean snickering as he tried to help him up and had to bite his tongue before reminding his smart ass big brother that he had plenty of ammo on him. Although he had to admit that he really should have seen the thing resembling a small wall that went up to his knee. Shining a flash light around he saw that it covered a large area and looked like there it should be the floor of a room. _Or the roof._ Jackpot. He began scrabbling around, Dean following slowly, confused about his actions. He was beginning to think that it wasn't right after all, when he found it, a small window in the side, their only source of light in their prison.

"This is it Dean. We've found it."

After searching for a way in, he found a discreet latch at the side, and he heaved open the heavy hatch that led down into the dark pit.

"Ok, tie this rope around that tree, I'm gonna go down, salt it, climb back up, and we'll burn it, then everything should be ok."

"What? Sam are you crazy? Have you seen that freaking drop, if you slip, You. Will. Die. And! You'll be down there all alone without me to back you up, cos I sure as hell can't climb. No, we salt and burn from up here and hope we get everywhere."

"Dean I'll be..."

"No Sam! No and that's final."

He'd no sooner finished speaking when he saw his brother's eyes go wide and he was dragged from his sight, he heard a small grunt of pain or shock before he too felt his legs pulled from under him and could only gasp in shock as he descended down into the darkness once more.

tbc

xxx

I hope that was ok, I'd really like some review cookies because they're yummy :D


	9. Chapter 9

So sorry for those following this that I've not updated in a while, I know I said I would, but I got stuck basically. Anyway here it is finally, and it is nearly finished, the next chapter should be up in a couple of weeks. I hope you enjoy!

xxx

It never normally felt like this on the struggle back to consciousness. Yeah sure, he had the familiar headache, the nausea in his stomach and the spinning behind his eyelids like he was still a bit drunk, but the small stinging, tingling sensations running over his body were new to him. He felt a particularly nasty pinch on his cheek and lifted his arm to the source, faintly surprised when something gave a small yelp as his hand unknowingly batted something away.

He wrenched his eyes open, the exertion causing him to grunt, he tried to focus as tiny shadowy shapes skittered away from him. He tried to push himself up onto his hands and knees but was hit with a wave of dizziness that caused his limbs to buckle under him and he lay breathing hard into the ground.

A gentle hand ghosted across his forehead, soothing, comforting, checking his head for injuries, checking he hadn't hurt himself too badly. He knew he should stay awake, but he was so tired, and Sam was there, as long as Sam was there it was ok, because Sam was safe and he would take care of him. He wondered dimly why Sam was hurting him, why he was forcing his face cruelly into the ground, why he was rendering him helpless with a knee to the back, why he was breathing hard on the back of his neck, why he was pulling at his clothes, laughing in that soulless way.

He felt hot with panic, frantically tried to buck Sam off, the fear raged inside him, the rational side of his brain trying to tell him that Sam was doing something for his own good, Sam would never hurt him. But Sam was hurting him, Sam was too close, he wanted to tell him to stop, to ask why and tell him to stop hurting him, but his voice seemed to have vacated the building, the all encompassing fear rendering him speechless, unable to move.

It wasn't until he felt Sam reach around to the front of his jeans that real panic truly set in, his lungs wanting to seize up and gasp for air at the same time. This couldn't be happening, Sam would never do this to him, he knew what he'd been through, how he'd suffered. Maybe he'd pushed his brother too far, maybe Sam was fed up with how Dean had been and was punishing him for it.

"_Please no. Please don't Sammy, I'll do anything you want, I'll be better, we'll never talk about any of this ever again. Just don't do this. Please, not you."_

He didn't know if he'd said it out loud or just in his head, it was hard to know anything past the crippling terror, the harsh breaths tearing their way through his chest, the feeling of hands on him, tugging at his jeans.

The hands grew more frantic, more aggressive, flipping him over onto his back so they could make faster work of removing his jeans. He squeezed his eyes shut tight; the last thing he wanted was to look at Sam's face while this happened.

He needn't have worried, a sharp slap across the face had his eyes opening to the sight of Nick leering above him, and he was so relieved he could have cried.

The thought made him feel sick, but the worst thing was he was ok with it now, he didn't care, just let it happen and let him die, just as long as Sam wasn't betraying him in the worst way imaginable.

He vaguely noticed that the pinching sensation was back, and realised hollowly that he was being eaten alive, was finally going to be a delicious meal for the bastard Imps, while he was raped again by the worst monster he knew.

A part of him knew it wasn't real, but it felt real, it felt way too damn real and he knew that when Nick got bored of messing around and got down to business that it would feel all too real and that was too much to handle. But as long as it wasn't Sam, this was as scared as they were going to get him and he hoped he tasted like shit.

He decided that being eaten alive didn't really hurt, it was more irritating than anything else, that was until they got more aggressive and he hissed in a breath as he felt several small sets of teeth piercing his flesh. He tried to stay with the pain, to stay focused on being eaten rather than being raped again, but every time he thought he'd centred his attention on the Imps that he hoped Sam would torch the hell out of, the thing that looked like Nick, increased his efforts at making him scream.

And he did scream, he screamed when Nick finally stopped taunting him, and wrenched his jeans down to his knees, and he couldn't hold in the instinctive cry that forced itself from his throat. Heart pounding so hard he thought it might burst out through his chest (that would save the little mouths some time getting through his rib cage), hot sweat pouring over him, purple spots dancing in front of his eyes as he, tried to breathe, tried to make his mind turn off, block out everything that was happening, but it wouldn't let him, he figured some sick part of him was enjoying this, enjoying this torture. If that was true then he deserved it, maybe he deserved it before, he was being punished for everything he'd done wrong, and now it was happening again, and it was all his fault.

He was unaware of the harsh wheezing breaths he was struggling to draw into his lungs, all he could think was that he'd done something to deserve this, he must have said or done something to make Nick think he wanted it in the first place. He'd had these thoughts before but had pushed them deep down where they couldn't hurt him, now though he couldn't stop them racing through his mind, his panic making it impossible to push them away.

Something thudded into the ground by his head; twisting his neck he wondered how his duffel had followed him down there and tried to remember if there was a science lesson about how fast different things fell. The voice took a while to register, but when it did it was a very welcome sound.

"DEAN!" Sam Winchester was the master at conveying the mood of the situation with just the one syllable, and right now it was _things have gone straight to hell! Pay attention to me so I can save your sorry ass!_

Dean's eyes locked on Sam who was too far above him for his liking, peeking over the edge of the hatch and yelling at him.

"DEAN! GET THE SALT!"

His brain really didn't want work properly, so it took him a couple of seconds to make sense of Sam's words, a couple of seconds where an Imp took a greedy bite out of his cheek. But the sight of Sam spurred him on and he groped out to the duffel, fumbling around inside with one hand while using the other to try and keep Nick from getting a hold of his boxers, because once those came down it was pretty much game over.

He felt his hand close around the familiar container, wrenched his other hand up to pull off the lid and before Nick could get a hand on the goods, sent salt flying around him, making Nick disappear and small creatures go shrieking off to the shadows once more.

He lay on his back panting hard, clutching the container to his chest. He didn't have long before it all came back, but he just needed a few seconds to pull himself together.

"Dean hang on, I'm gonna get you out of there."

He didn't acknowledge Sam's call, didn't really care, all he knew was that it was going to end tonight, one way or another it was going to be over.

Breathing under control, he sat up, silently pulled his jeans back up to his hips, clenched his jaw and got to work. He salted every damn inch of that pit, their lair. He wasn't really thinking about what he was doing, and before he knew it, he'd liberally doused the entire place in lighter fluid, and he was holding a match in his hand, ready to flick it to life.

He'd probably die, and there was probably a better way of going about this, but he didn't have time to think because they were crawling back from the shadows and if he didn't do it now then they'd win, and he intended on going down quite literally in a blaze of glory.

The spark in his hand shocked him and he threw it to the far side of the room and watched the fire spring to life around him, he stood in his little corner that the fire would reach eventually, he didn't know why he hadn't poured the accelerant over here, maybe he wasn't quite as suicidal as he thought, or maybe he was a bit masochistic and wanted the pain, wanted to suffer before he died, either way he felt empty as he watched the orange flames lick higher and higher.

Above the crackle of the fire he heard other sounds too, shrieking sounds as they tried to escape the heat, and as they got more desperate the knocking returned, rising higher and higher, reminding him of when he was trapped down there alone, just like he was now, he was going to die afraid and alone.

He pushed his hands over his ears in a futile attempt to block out the noises and crouched down in his corner next to the wall of fire. The heat was so powerful and he was so tired, it wouldn't take long, he wouldn't even feel anything, he'd just go to sleep and never wake up and everything would be ok, he wouldn't have to deal with the crushing pain inside anymore and Sam wouldn't have to deal with his sorry ass, the pathetic, broken mess that was his life.

He inhaled deeply and spluttered against the rancid smoke invading his lungs, not long now, just give in and it'll all be over.

He felt something bump against his head, and figured the pit was crumbling, burying him alive. The thought sobered him slightly and he dragged his heavy lids open to see a rope with a large loop at the end dangling in front of him. He forced himself to look up; he saw Sam's worried face looking down, tugging on the rope, yelling at him to take it. He was tired though, and just wanted to sleep and forget, he turned away, made Sam yell louder, he looked back not wanting to see. But Sam's face, blurring from the fumes and the tears from the smoke making his eyes sting, Sam looked so frightened and Dean could never stand for Sam's face to look like that and now Sam was disappearing, hidden behind a thick cloud of smoke, and Dean had to see him again, had to make sure he'd be ok, he couldn't leave him alone like this.

He'd never known such simple tasks could take so much effort, but somehow he managed to wriggle into the loop. Unable to make his voice work above a whisper he gave three tugs as hard as he could and felt himself immediately lift from the ground.

The rope was hell on his ribs, and there were times when he feared that he'd go crashing back down and would never see his brother again, but Sam was determined and after an eternity the air became cooler and there were strong hands grabbing him, hauling him away from the flames and onto solid ground.

He coughed and spluttered, laying on his back, he drank in the cool night air. He heard the hatch slam shut and then Sam was pulling him against him, telling him to breathe, just breathe, and he couldn't help but notice the way Sam's voice sounded, almost void of emotion, like he was trying not to cry, but Dean couldn't think too much about it, he was too busy breathing, too busy laughing hysterically which made breathing even more difficult, but it was over, he was free.

Closing his eyes against the night, he let everything slow down, drank in the cool, clean air and just let himself be, just exist, just for a little while where there was nothing but the night and the sense of freedom.

Sam had been quiet, eerily quiet; normally he would have been yammering in Dean's ear, trying to get him to talk about his feelings, the usual bullshit. But now he was just quiet, just a quiet rock for Dean to lean against.

Sam moved to stand then, manoeuvring himself from under Dean and offering a hand up, which Dean gratefully accepted, because he was fairly sure he wouldn't have been able to stand under his own strength. This theory was proven when Sam let go and Dean ended up right back where he had started, watching Sam walk back to the car.

"Sammy" his voice was hoarse from the smoke and he had to try again to make Sam hear.

"Sammy!" Sam turned then and Dean hated what he saw in his face, despair, loneliness and pity, he wasn't sure which he cared least for. Sam gently helped him to his feet and then pulled his arm across his shoulders so he could help him back to the car.

The walk was long and silent, Dean didn't think he'd have the energy for words; he was putting all his reserves into making sure one foot went in front of the other.

The car was a safe, comfortable haven, its throaty purr reassuring and comforting, it would have been perfect if it weren't for the nausea making waves in his stomach and the heavy silence between the two brothers.

Dean wanted to talk, wanted to know what was going on inside Sam's head but he couldn't think of the words. The silence remained until they got to the road leading to both the hospital and the motel, at which point Dean caught Sam chewing on his bottom lip, like he was trying to make up his mind and then swung the car in the direction of the motel.

Dean sighed with relief "Thanks Sammy."

"You're going back Dean." Sam mumbled, never taking his eyes from the road.

"What? But it's over now, and you're the one driving to the motel dude."

"You need to get cleaned up, you can't go back to hospital looking like this, they'll lock you up forever. And I need you Dean."

Sam parked the car and got out, coming round to help a shocked Dean out of the car, he wouldn't look him in the eye and Dean decided to adopt stroppy kid mode and stubbornly refused to give Sam any help whatsoever, which would have worked a lot better if his brother wasn't so freaking strong and could drag him into the room with little effort.

Sam wasted no time, he cleaned all the dirt and grime off, patched up the new injuries Dean had developed and got him looking relatively the same as he'd left hospital.

"Put these on" He tossed his brother the hospital scrubs he'd changed out of and went into the bathroom, letting the door click softly shut behind him.

Throughout Sam's ministrations, Dean had sat there, trying to get his brother to look him in the eye, trying to read what was going on in Sam's head and he couldn't do it. He used to know instinctively what was wrong with his little brother, but now he didn't have a clue, and if he was honest with himself, he was scared, he didn't want to have to face his demons, and if he didn't have Sam there to help him through it, there was no way he was going back to the hospital.

He was still sat there, holding the white clothing (that he really didn't want to have to get used to), when Sam emerged from the bathroom. He didn't look surprised to see that Dean hadn't moved. Just walked softly over and began tugging Dean's shirt up over his head.

"Sam stop it."

"If you won't get changed yourself then I'll have to do it for you."

"No Sam, stop. I'm not going back."

"Yes you are Dean."

"The hell I am. I can't do it."

"You have to."

"NO! No I don't, I don't have to do a damn thing!"

"YES YOU DO! You _have _to get help Dean, let them help you get better."

Dean tried to open his mouth in protest but Sam cut him off.

"You don't even want to try do you? ALL YOU WANT IS TO KILL YOURSELF, YOU SELFISH BASTARD!"

Dean sat stunned at Sam's words, he didn't know what to say, Sam just continued to rant, everything finally spilling out.

"Did you think I didn't see you tonight Dean? YOU BURNT THE PLACE DOWN WHILE YOU WERE STILL INSIDE! You didn't even flinch," his voice dropped to just above a whisper "you were going to leave me; you didn't want me to pull you out did you? DID YOU? Answer me Dean, you at least owe me that much."

"I..."

"That's what I thought." Sam released him roughly and stalked over to the table, arms shaking as he braced himself against it.

Dean didn't know what to say, he was supposed to be the one protecting Sam and now he was hurting and it was all his fault.

"I'm sorry Sam." He mumbled, it slid of the tongue easily and it was true, he just hoped Sam would accept it.

"You're sorry Dean?" No such luck.

Sam turned to face him, eyes glistening with unshed tears "What are you sorry for? Huh? The fact that you're a stubborn jackass who won't let anyone help him? Or maybe it's cos you keep trying to off yourself every chance you get? Or maybe it's because you stole my last pair of socks, cos God forbid we talk about something real for once!" by now the tears had broken free and were running down Sam's face.

"I'm sorry I let him do this to me."

And now Sam was just plain confused, the fight drained out of him, he sat on the bed facing Dean and this time, Dean wouldn't meet his eyes.

"What are you talking about?"

"Maybe... Maybe I wanted it. You know, maybe on some messed up level. 'Cause I've been thinking, and I'm a hunter Sam, I've been fighting evil all my life and I couldn't fight off one guy? I mean it makes no sense, so I reckon that I led him on or something, there has to be a reason that he went for me, and I couldn't fight him off 'cause some part of me didn't _want_ to fight him off."

Normally he would have felt shocked at Dean's admission, and part of him was, astounded at how low Dean's opinion of himself had sunk that he blamed himself for his abuse. But mostly he was just sad, sad that after all this time, after all they'd talked about that Dean was still bottling up his deepest fears, and it was going to kill him.

He realised that if he didn't say something soon then Dean was going take his silence as confirmation that it was his fault and who knew what damage that could do.

"How long have you felt like this?" His voice was soft, like he'd startle his brother if he spoke too loudly.

Dean shrugged "I guess I kinda always have."

"Why didn't you say anything before?"

"I guess I didn't want you to know just how screwed up I was, hell I don't think I wanted to know."

"Dean, you know it's not your fault right?"

Dean snorted "Don't go all _Good Will Hunting _on me now Sammy."

"Hey it was a good movie."

"You're just saying that cause you have women's parts."

"Whatever, I saw you welling up."

"You saw nothing. Fine it wasn't that bad." He threw Sam a lopsided grin that he returned.

"It had a pretty good message as well."

Dean dropped his gaze back to the floor "I know you keep saying it's not my fault, but they're just words Sam, and I know, I _know_ that I wasn't strong enough. And he's won hasn't he?"

"No he hasn't. It's not your fault Dean. You did nothing to lead him on, and you did fight, don't you remember?"

Dean did remember, he remembered the brief surge of triumph when he'd given him a bloody nose the first time he'd tried anything, before he'd buried him underground in that coffin where he was now waiting out eternity. But he hadn't fought much after that, at the time he'd thought he didn't have the strength, had been tortured into submission, but afterwards he'd convinced himself that if he'd just tried harder, used his knowledge and training, he could have beat him.

"You didn't want it."

"I didn't?" the hopelessness and childish innocence in Dean's voice damn near broke Sam's heart, it was just the need to be strong for his brother holding it together. He crouched down on the floor in front of Dean.

"No, Dean, you didn't want it, you didn't do anything to make it happen. The guy was fucked up and you didn't deserve it. It's not your fault Dean, you can blame me if you want, but don't you dare think that it's your fault."

Dean's eyes finally shot up to meet Sam's.

"Why the hell would I blame you? You saved me Sammy." And for the millionth time, Sam hated that their roles had been reversed, that Dean was looking at him with the same hero worship Sam had carried around all his life while Dean had taken care of him, raised him.

"I should have found you sooner, I mean, if I'd just got there a little earlier, I forgot everything Dad taught me, I fell and knocked myself out, I was so close and I couldn't save you." Sam shocked himself at his sudden outburst, the guilt that he didn't know he'd been concealing came pouring out. A gentle hand on his face brought him out of his thoughts.

"You saved my life Sammy. I could never blame you, please don't think that it's your fault."

"Do you know how I feel now Dean, I can't stand watching you destroy yourself anymore. Please let me help you?"

He reached for Dean's hospital clothes and held them out for his brother. Dean looked at Sam, took the clothes and nodded.

tbc

Thanks so much for reading, please let me know your thoughts, I am more inclined to write when I get reviews!


	10. Epilogue

I'm so sorry that I haven't updated for ages, I have been insanely busy and couldn't quite figure out how to end it, thank you to everyone who's stuck with it, I hope you think the last bit's ok.

xxx

"Hey, ready to go?"

Dean looked up from shoving his clothes into his duffel, at his brother standing somewhat awkwardly in the doorway.

"Are you kidding me? I've been ready to go since the minute we got here."

"Really? Never would have guessed, it's not like you made a massive deal about it or anything." Sam smirked at the affectionate middle finger aimed in his direction. He was excited to get back on the road with his brother, but nervousness had been tightening its hold on his airway for a few days now, with questions he couldn't answer, would it be the same? Would Dean be the same? Was he going to be enough to help him by himself?

Dean meanwhile had been too busy thinking about getting out of hospital to give too much thought to the doubts and fears making themselves known. It had been a tough couple of months, talking to shrinks was not something he'd ever had down on his to do list, but he had to admit it had helped, they had helped and he felt more like himself than he had done in over a year. He glanced at Sam who was seemed to find his shoes fascinating.

"Hey, Sammy come here a second."

Dean hopped up on the hospital bed, leaving room for Sam to sit beside him.

"I uh... I never really thanked you. You know, for everything you did for me. I get that I was a bit of a pain in the ass but... you never gave up on me, and uh... you know... thanks."

Sam looked like Dean had just declared his undying love for High School Musical, and Dean couldn't help but smirk at the expression on his face.

"You alright there Sam?"

"Uh...Yeah, it's just...that was kinda creepy."

"Yeah well, bite me!"

"It's ok Dean, you'd have done the same for me." He put his hand on his big brother's shoulder.

"Dude, you know if it really means that much to you, you can have the surgery, I mean if you'd feel happier as a girl... ow!" Dean rubbed his shoulder where Sam had delivered a friendly punch.

"So, can I please get out of here now, 'cause I really want a shower, this place makes me feel dirty." He paused "Then I want to leave Sam, I want us to take a break or something, 'cause if anyone deserves it we do, and then we're gonna go kick some demon ass."

"That sounds like a great idea Dean, and you know, if stuff ever starts bothering you like...I mean don't deal with it by yourself 'cause you might..."

"Might what? Hack up my own arms again." Dean winced at Sam's expression. "I'm sorry Sammy, I didn't mean it."

"You never told me why you did it?"

"Seriously? We're gonna do this?" Dean sighed "It was a way of dealing. A bad way. It was usually when I'd had a couple of beers. It just, it just stopped it from hurting, just for a bit. It was like, everything that was bad, would just bleed away, just bleed out of me, and for a while, I could forget. Like I said, not the best way of dealing."

"You could have talked to me, I could have helped."

"I know Sammy, but you know me, I didn't want to burden you with it, you were already on edge all the time, I didn't want to give you anything else to worry about."

"That's a stupid reason. But then again, you are pretty stupid so I guess it makes sense. Just, please, if you ever feel like doing that or anything stupid like that again, just talk to me, because I don't think I can watch you go through all this again, I don't think I can go through all this again."

"I promise Sam. I'm ok now though, I'm better. I really think the jugs on Nurse Lafferty helped though, just so therapeutic."

Sam grimaced and Dean grinned.

"Right Sammy boy, let's get outta here. Ooh can we get a burger from that diner on the corner? Please?"

"Are you ever gonna grow up?"

"Not in this lifetime."

Sam hefted Dean's bag onto his shoulder and headed out into the hall, Dean paused in the doorway, taking in the white sterile room in which he'd been broken down and built back up again. He glanced down at his wrists, the ugly scars that would never truly fade, and maybe that was a good thing, maybe he needed reminders, to keep him strong, to make him remember how far he'd come.

A part of him would always be in this town, in this room, but he could take the rest of himself and move on. This room could have that part of his life, he didn't need it anymore. He reached up, flicked off the light switch, and closed the door.

The End.

xxx

Thank you so much for reading, please let me know what you thought, it means a lot to me, or if there's anything you can suggest so that I can improve. Anyway Thanks again, hope you enjoyed it :)


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